The Third Option
by supergirlscafe
Summary: Sequel to Possibilities: You can only ignore the obvious for so long. Blair.Chuck
1. Chapter 1

Spoilers: Goes AU after 1x8 but includes some 1x9 spoilers

Timeline: A few months after the prequel, Possibilities, ends.

The Third Option

Six-thirty AM. Blair's alarm blares. She smacks her hand down on the snooze button, knowing that it is a futile gesture. Dorota, the housekeeper, is always in her room within five minutes anyway to make sure she is not running late. It gives Blair just enough time to put her other hand over her mouth as she rushes towards the bathroom, her morning ritual.

As Blair heaves into the toilet, with Dorota coming in behind her and rubbing her back gently, she thinks that maybe it is time to take another pregnancy test.

Blair sashays up the stairs to her school, her prim skirt swishing around her thighs. She kisses her boyfriend-redux of three months, Nate, softly on the lips before quickly detaching and sipping her nonfat Starbucks latte.

Nate takes her books from her and carries them, like a tv-sitcom boyfriend, as they walk through the halls to Blair's first class. Blair can see all the familiar, envious stares of her classmates and she is satisfied.

Nate notices the small grin on Blair's usually perfectly composed features and asks, "Everything going well, Blair?"

She pauses for dramatic effect, and to give herself a second to come up with a reply, before telling him, "Guess what." It is not a question, it is a command.

"What?" Nate plays along obediently.

"My dad is coming into town!" Blair squeals happily.

Nate knows the happiness that would be accompanied by that event, and is sure that it would not have been displayed only in a small grin. Blair had always been a drama queen and in the past, initial excitement at such news would be expressed through the immediate calling of everyone she held dear. It was because of this knowledge that Nate knew that Blair had found out about her father's visit long before and had only just thought to tell Nate. However, nowadays there was plenty that Nate did not tell Blair that he would have formerly considered paramount to tell her first, so he says nothing.

While he ponders this, Blair prattles on in the background, painfully aware her boyfriend is not paying any attention. "He has promised to take me shopping on Saturday afternoon at Barney's after lunch, but he wants to know if you want to have dinner together at 7pm at his hotel. I told him yes, of course, is that all right?"

"Is what all right?" Nate asks, having caught only the tail end of the sentence.

Blair knows this and rolls her eyes. "Dinner. With my father. At 7pm. Saturday. The Ritz. Try not to be late." With this last directive, she takes her books from him and strolls into her first period class.

Nate sighs. There was no pleasing Blair anymore.

Blair taps her pencil in APUSH as the teacher turns on the overhead projector and slides the DVD on the Civil War into the computer. As Mrs. Warner presses play, Blair's pencil is poised and ready to take notes on every detail of the political tension leading up to the secession of South Carolina.

Yet as Blair's pencil scratches against the paper, dutifully transcribing the important points of contention in Congress, her mind is in a very different world.

It has been two and a half months since she took the pregnancy tests at Chuck's suite. Since then, she had dismissed her daily vomiting as stress. After all, she was trying to be the perfect girlfriend for Nate in spite of the constant media attention on his father's court case and attempted suicide. Trying to be an automaton would be difficult for anyone. However, it was clear that there was at least some sort of sickness involved after three months.

Still, Blair doesn't think she is pregnant. She took the test. She probably just caught a persistent flu bug from all those skanks she sees at school. Blair decides to make an appointment with the family doctor after school.

Nate walks slowly back to his part of the school. He trudges into his regular old Chemistry class, collapsing on the stool next to his lab partner with a sigh.

"Bad day, Nathaniel?" His lab partner asks.

"You have no idea," Nate mumbles.

"I didn't catch that, Nathaniel. You'll have to speak up," Chuck, his lab partner, admonishes him lazily.

"Shut up."

"Harsh language, Natie-boy. Trouble in paradise, perhaps?"

Nate glares at him. "Fuck off, dickwad."

Chuck brushes imaginary lint off of his shirt. "Ouch. Blair must have been really mean today."

Nate sighs again. "She wasn't mean, exactly. She never is. It's just…"

The teacher stands over them. "I don't want to interrupt you boys' conversation, so I'll make it quick. Are either of you interested in participating in the completion of today's experiment, or should I just give you an 'F' on it now?"

The family doctor idea is a bust, Blair realizes while talking to Kati and Iz at lunch in the cafeteria. If the…problem…turned out to be an STD or something equally embarrassing, the doctor would most certainly call her mother. But there was no way Blair could go to a Planned Pregnancy clinic, which would keep quiet. After all, what if somebody saw her there? As far as anybody knew, Blair was still a virgin.

Well, except Chuck. Blair is reluctant to deal with him again. She knows that Chuck will find it hilarious that she hasn't consummated her relationship with Nate yet, and she is reluctant to tell him.

Blair has always been embarrassed to admit to anyone that her relationship with Nate is less than perfect. Still, the fact that she went further in one night of charged hormones with Chuck than in over a year of dating Nate was telling. Chuck will laugh at that, Blair knows, and she does not want to inflate his ego anymore than it already is.

Nate and Chuck carry their pizza slices and Pepsi and retreat to furthest picnic tables outside in the courtyard. It is freezing cold, but it is worth it to avoid the gawkers. Ever since Nate's father was arrested, Nate has been the subject of endless gossip at school.

"So what is up with you and Blair, anyway?" Chuck asks carelessly. "You two have been all Stepford-Wives lately. It's like you can't be bothered to engage in actual conversation. Or fun, for that matter."

Nate takes a gulp of his Pepsi before replying. "I don't know. Blair's been really stressed and I think she's actually starting to make herself sick."

"Um, Nathaniel, no offense meant to your intelligence here but…you do know about Blair's little problem, right?" Chuck mimes sticking his finger down his throat.

Nate rolls his eyes. "Obviously. No, it's like she's so stressed her immune system is breaking down, or something. She gets queasy and wants the weirdest food sometimes."

Chuck's eyebrows rise. "You sure she isn't just going mental or something?"

Nate shrugs. "I don't know. It's like our relationship is a job to her, a chore she has to complete before moving on to the next task."

"Is it still fun to be with her?" Chuck asks cautiously.

Nate snorts. "Are you kidding? I barely get a kiss out of her these days. I'm lucky to get to second base."

"Are you kidding? When's the last time you got laid, man?"

Nate ponders. "It's got to be during those few days that we broke up."

"That long ago?" Chuck asks hopefully.

"Well, Blair's not exactly putting out. Hell, you probably got more action with her when we broke up than I'm getting now."

You have no idea, Nathaniel, Chuck thinks. He tries to remember why he told Nate that he kissed Blair drunkenly the night Nate and Blair broke up. Then he remembers: it was Blair who told him, when Nate mentioned that Chuck already knew about the break-up, completely ignoring the perfectly good excuse Chuck had given. "Hell no, Nathaniel. She was frigid even then, trust me."

Nate chuckles. "Thank God. It would be karma to have her screw my best friend, like I did Serena, but it would suck."

"Yeah." Chuck doesn't know what to say to that.

"I know I've screwed up, but I really want this to work, you know?"

Chuck adopts a disinterested tone. "Uh-huh."

"I just don't know what to do to make us better. I'm having dinner with her father and her on Saturday. Any ideas? " Nate asks.

Chuck shrugs helplessly. "Sorry, dude, you know I barely even see Blair anymore. I have no clue."

Chuck hadn't been lying when he told Nate he didn't see Blair anymore. Ever since Nate and Blair got back together, Blair and Chuck had been careful to limit their public appearances together. Today, however, constitutes a valid exception to this rule, Chuck decides as he sidles up to Blair at her locker after school in full view of the entire junior class at Constance Billiards.

Blair looks up from her locker mirror and nearly jumps. "What are you doing here, Chuck?" She asks accusingly.

"Hey, keep your voice down and act normally," Chuck says sotto voce. In a more normal tone, he says, "Just chatting with my best friend's girlfriend, is that a crime?"

"It is when it's you!" Blair hisses. Louder, she replies "Did Nate send you or something?"

"I don't think Nate knows I might have gotten you pregnant," Chuck spits back quietly. For the benefit of the gossips surrounding them, he answers more clearly, "No, darling, he just seemed so nervous about meeting your father again as your boyfriend that I thought maybe I'd do some scouting for him."

"I took the test! There's no way!" Blair whispers to him.

"Nate just told me you are even more sick than usual and that you have weird food cravings." He raises an eyebrow, bringing his face very close to hers. "Need another test?"

Blair sighs. "Fine. Give it to me tomorrow, okay? And be discreet."

Chuck saunters off. "Oh, I will."

"And don't forget, tell Nate my father has missed California red wine the most!" Blair shouts loudly in his direction.

Chuck gives her a thumbs up before turning and strolling down the hallway, out of sight.

Author's Note: I hope you all like the sequel to this story so far! I worked pretty hard on it. I already have the next few chapters outlined but Real Life is taking my time up so I will probably not be able to update more than once a week at the most.

Also, thanks so much to my super-fabulous beta, Daniellea! This chapter is so much better because of her.

Feedback for this newbie author is always appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Gossip Girl does not belong to me. If it did, I'd be paying the writers a heckuva lot more so that they could get my tv show to me before they RUN OUT OF EPISODES TO SHOW!

--CB--

Friday morning. 6:29AM. Blair's perfectly manicured hand wearily turns her alarm off before it can ring. She drags herself out of bed and towards the bathroom, regurgitating her midnight's snack of ice cream into the toilet. She flushes before standing and washing her hands. She sighs.

She looks into the mirror. The girl reflecting back at her has messy bed-head curly hair, loose pajamas, and a stain on her collar. How could this possibly be the same impeccably, painstakingly coiffed and clad Blair Waldorf that the world sees?

Dorota looks back at her in the mirror, standing at bathroom door, and her expression is one of disappointment.

Blair doesn't think she has ever been so silently disparaged in her life.

--CB--

Blair walks up the stairs towards her school with only a few minutes to spare before class. Usually she prefers to arrive early so that all the later arrivals can jealously admire her chatting with her perfect boyfriend, Nate, and her perfect friends, Kati and Iz and Serena, wearing her perfect outfits, before school starts.

Today is different. Blair needs the disguise of the hundreds of students walking through the halls in order to accomplish her mission. Or rather, let the mission come to her.

As Blair pushes her way through the massive oak front doors, she enters the crowd of students. Although she allows herself to be swept along with them, she holds herself tall and proud. Nobody in the area could miss her if they looked. Sometimes, it doesn't matter if one is the tallest, or the prettiest, or the smartest in the room. The one who receives the most attention is the one who looks as if they command the room.

And that certainly described Blair Waldorf. Only a junior at the prestigious Constance Billiards but the Queen Bee since halfway through freshman year, when she dethroned Priscilla Vanderbilt at her own sleepover.

Since then, Blair has thrown her own sleepovers.

--CB--

Chuck looks both ways before slipping into Constance Billiards' hallway quickly, briskly. He knows that he is bound to attract a lot of attention, and quickly, so he has to be careful. If the teachers see him there so close to the beginning of school and without a satisfactory purpose, they will return him to the St. Jude's hallway before he can blink.

He notices Blair as soon as he walks in, of course. How couldn't he? Her hair shone the brightest, her clothes were the most fashionable, and her walk was just a little more self-confident than everybody else's.

He picks out a sophomore he has escorted to a ball in the past, Katherine…Wilder, possibly, or Winslow. It makes no difference if he knows her name. No girl in her right mind would refuse attention from one of the richest and most handsome boys in the Upper East Side. Her locker is directly across the hall and walking there takes him right smack in the middle of Blair's path.

Perfect.

He strides towards Katherine, long steps that take him quickly to her locker (brushing lightly past Blair, of course) and kissing her cheek. "How are you, Kathy darling?" He says at his most charming.

Kathy does not stand a chance. She blushes, as do her gaggle of four equally attractive friends that surround her. However, she at least withstands the urge to giggle, as her friends cannot. They titter behind their hands and turn away to give the couple privacy.

Chuck begins speaking, but he does not know what he is saying. Out of the corner of his eye he sees that Blair's hand is clutched tightly around something in her coat pocket. Mission accomplished.

--CB--

Serena waits for Blair in their APUSH class as Blair sits down next to her in the seat Serena saved with a careless toss of a jacket.

"Gonna actually pay attention today?" Serena jokes.

"What do you mean?" Blair says, confused.

"Yesterday you were totally out of it," Serena reminds her. "I even doodled on your paper, to see if it would activate your OCD, and you didn't even erase it."

"Oh," Blair lies to her best friend. "I just have some stuff on my mind, you know, with my dad coming into town tomorrow."

Serena frowns sympathetically. "I know, it must be so overwhelming since you haven't seen him since Christmas." She smiles cautiously. "You must be happy though, right?"

Blair nods as Mrs. Warner begins to write on the board. She leans over to whisper to Serena in a sudden change of heart: "Hey, we're sneaking off-campus for lunch, okay? We've got some stuff to do."

Serena raises her eyebrows slyly. "I'm in." She winks.

Blair rolls her eyes. Serena, if nothing else, was up for anything. She would need to be, after what Blair told her.

--CB--

Chuck and Nate sit on the steps outside the school drinking the Starbucks lattes they had bribed some freshman to sneak off campus and get for them during his free period.

Chuck gulps down some of his. "Good stuff, this."

Nate nods and drinks some of his. "Yeah."

Chuck sighs and relaxes on the steps. "So I went to talk to Blair yesterday about presents for her dad."

"Yeah, I saw on Gossip Girl that you two hung out."

Chuck's face is incredulous. "Dude, you read that shit?"

"What? It's not like I care. I totally appreciate you helping me out," Nate says without a hint of distrust. If only Nate knew.

Chuck pretends to be absorbed in his coffee cup as he tells Nate casually, "Blair said a bottle of Napa Valley red might help smooth things over with the old man."

Nate frowns. "Man, I know nothing about wine. I don't want to get something shitty by accident. Then he'll hate me."

"Just ask your dad if you can take something out of his collection…" Chuck trails off. "Oops. Right." He thinks for a second. "Hey, just come by my place before you go, I'm sure the amazing Bartholomew Bass has some acceptable reds in his wine cabinet."

"Thanks, man. I'll probably come by around five-ish to pick it up."

"No problem, Nathaniel. Anything for a friend."

"Hey Chuck? Is that Serena and Blair sneaking out of the building over there?"

"Nah, man. You must be hallucinating. Perfect-ass Blair would never skip school."

--CB--

"Hey Blair? Why are we in the bathroom?" Serena asks cautiously as she reapplies lipstick in the mirror on the ladies room in the hotel lobby of the Ritz Carlton, just a few blocks away from their school.

Blair, occupied in the toilet stall, doesn't respond, but Serena hears some clunking around, which she takes to mean Blair is listening, so she continues. "I mean, it's a lovely bathroom, to be sure, but aren't there a million other more exciting things we could be spending our lunch period doing? Hey, isn't your mother's display at Bendel's near here? We should go try some of her new collection on! That would be so cool."

Serena hears the sound of crinkling plastic coming from Blair's stall. "Blair? You've been in there for like five minutes. What gives?"

Blair stares at the pink lines appearing on the stick, her skirt fastened haphazardly around her waist. She looks up at the fancy wooden stall door and then down again to the stick. She wonders if it is too late to not have sex with Chuck.

"Okay, Blair, you need to answer me, or I'm coming in," Serena tells her friend, wanting to make sure her friend isn't becoming bulimic again. When she hears the gagging sounds, she turns the doorknob and is surprised to find it unlocked.

Serena looks down at her friend heaving and then at the pink lines on the stick that sits on the waste disposal box on the wall. Suddenly, Serena wishes she hadn't had that scone for breakfast either.

--CB--

"So what are you going to do?" Serena asks Blair as they sink into the couches in the lobby of the Ritz.

Blair shakes her head, clearly unable to form thoughts yet.

"I mean, Nate's a good guy," Serena says. "Yeah, it's earlier than you guys expected, but he loves you. He'll do the right thing."

Blair breaks out into a dry sob.

"Blair?" Serena asks hesitantly.

"I…didn't sleep with Nate yet," Blair confesses.

Serena looks at Blair hesitantly. "Yeah, that's what I thought. But I guess I figured that it was recent or something, or…"

Blair nods.

"You didn't sleep with him, did you." Serena says, inhaling sharply. "The baby is Chuck's."

As Blair starts to silently cry, Serena looks at her with disgust, and then sadness. She cradles Blair's head softly, but Blair can feel the revulsion radiating from her.

--CB--

Serena drops Blair off at her apartment before heading back to school. "You need the rest, babe. You're at least three months pregnant. And you're overtired. Go to sleep, and I'll call you later. We'll figure out how to deal with this."

Blair can tell that Serena's advice will be to give up the baby, but she pretends to agree anyway. "You're right. You always are. We can deal with this. I just have to figure some stuff out. See you…Sunday? For the brunch?"

Serena smiles, with only part of it being forced. "Of course."

Serena and Blair embrace briefly before Blair retires to her bedroom and Serena determinedly turns on her heel and leaves.

Blair lies on her pillows and reflects on the irony. Serena, the wild child, would certainly have been voted more likely to get pregnant than Blair, the virgin queen, but of course, life aims to surprise you.

--CB--

Blair awakes to the buzzing of her phone. She flips it open. It's 7:10pm. Clearly her mother is out for the night, likely meeting with the fashion director of some department store. Again. Dorota clearly instructed the rest of the staff to let Blair sleep undisturbed. Probably because Blair has been known to throw things when irritated.

Blair clicks through the menu to read the text message that woke her up. It is from Chuck: _What did the test say?_

Blair pauses and sighs. She begins to text back, stops, and deletes what she has written. She instead types, _Negative._ She presses "Send" before she has a chance to regret it and shuts off her phone, dropping it behind her on the bed. Blair disappears into her wardrobe before reemerging in a baseball cap, low ponytail, and a ratty t-shirt and distressed jeans set she borrowed from Serena. Blair grabs the pamphlet Planned Parenthood distributed at school with their New York information from the back of her closet before hiding it under the sweatshirt she pulls over her head.

Blair leaves her apartment and walks out into the streets of New York. Blair can't solve all of her problems, but there is one that she knows how to fix. You know Blair: She always has to be in control.

--CB--

Author's Note:

Sorry this took a while…I was very inspired for one-shots, I don't know why. So I have written a bunch of new stuff…y'all should check out my one-shots, they're fab. Well, I'm a little biased on that point, obviously. They're all Blair/Chuck, of course. Just a little shameless pimping for my stuff ;)

And thank you guys so much for the fabulous reviews! I'm glad you enjoyed the first chapter and I really hope you like this new chapter. I'll try to get the next chapter up before the holidays start, ok? But I might not be able to because I am very, very busy with Rel Lyfe.

By the way, I also started (with sandiwandi and artemisphoenix) a new lj fic-exchange comm for gossip girl fics, called ggficexchange, so keep your eyes peeled for the launch of that soon!

Feedback for this newbie author is always appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: If I owned Gossip Girl…well, why dream about things you don't have? Additionally, I do not own "Juno", but it is a fabulous movie. You should all see it because you will love it!

--CB--

"The Third Option" Chapter 3

Blair leaves her apartment building through a side door Dorota showed her once when she was little. She's used it before to sneak out to meet Nate or party with Chuck. But that was when she and Chuck were just friends and she had a standing invitation to Chuck's suite at the Plaza where they always spent their Friday nights with all of their friends doing vodka shots. She would sneak off with Nate to the bathroom to "freshen up" when they would really just tipsily giggle and kiss until someone had to relieve themselves from all the alcohol they drank. Back then, Chuck was the biggest supporter of her and Nate's relationship, even more so than Serena. Even just a few months before the breakup, back in September, Chuck lent her the key to his suite so that Blair could finally lose the big V to Nate.

Now it is February, a week after Valentine's Day.Three months and one week since Blair did lose her big V. Only it was to Chuck instead of Nate, in the back of a limousine instead of on a four-poster bed, and full of passion instead of love.

New York in the winter is always cold and frosty, but usually the packed buildings managed to insulate the heat in the city. This is not true this winter, Blair notes, as she shivers in her thin jacket in the alley, back to the maintenance entrance. She rubs her hands up and down her arms to restore some feeling before walking briskly into the street away from her apartment building. Keeping her face in the shadow of her baseball cap she hails a taxi.

"The corner of Mott and Bleecker, please," she asks in her polite society voice that ruins her disguise as a plain Jane teenager.

As the taxi speeds down the streets of New York, Blair's hands grip the seat tightly in an uncharacteristically human move.

--CB--

Chuck strolls angrily into Kati's apartment after receiving the text message from Blair. He called Nate for the party location of the evening, who informed that Kati was throwing a bash in honor of….well, Chuck didn't care. He's ready to drink and party his sorrows away while watching the girl he loved hang all over his best friend, like every weekend.

"Chuck!" Kati shouts."I'm so glad you could make it!" She hugs him loosely with one arm, enveloping him in a cloud of perfume he recognizes to also be the scent Blair wore.Yet it smells repulsive on Kati, and irresistible on Blair.

"Nice to see you too, Kati," he drawls."Where's your queen, Blair?"

"Oh…" Kati trails off, her alcohol-addled mind straining to remember."Serena said she felt sick and couldn't come."

"Serena said that?" Chuck asks.

"Yeah…I think so.Anyway, want a Jell-O shot?" Kati offers, holding out the platter with her other hand.

Chuck shakes his head absentmindedly. "No, thank you.I'll see you later."

Chuck disentangles himself from Kati and strolls off aimlessly, his mind everywhere but the party. He is thus surprised when he bumps into someone.He looks up to see a boy's face that looks strangely familiar looking at him expectantly for an apology.

"Dexter…Harris?" Chuck attempts dazedly.

Dan Humphrey rolls his eyes. "It's Dan. Dan Humphrey. Remember me? My sister Jenny?"

Chuck snaps his fingers. "Right, right."

"Strange that it took you so long; you don't seem drunk…yet."

"I have a lot on my mind. What are you doing here, anyway? This isn't exactly your crowd."

Dan gestures towards a blonde-haired figure across the room. "Serena wanted to party and I figured it would be a good idea for me to accompany her, since she seemed a little…distraught. I think she and Blair had an argument or something."

"Why aren't you with her, then?" Chuck drawls lazily. "As opposed to standing here making small talk with me."

Dan sighs. "She had a few too many drinks. I'm trying to find some coffee to sober her up. This isn't like her."

A sneer curls at Chuck's lips. "Clearly you don't know her at all. Facing her troubles with many, many Jell-O shots is exactly what Serena van der Woodsen would do."

Dan opens his mouth to defend Serena, but seems to think better of arguing with Chuck, who is clearly only planning on attacking him. He shakes his head, snaps his mouth shut and marches towards a room he thinks is the kitchen.

--CB--

Taking advantage of Dan's absence, Chuck strides purposefully towards the blonde-haired girl he saw Dan identify.

"Hey, darling," Chuck smarms to Serena. "How are you?"

"Bass, don't get me started with you," a drunken Serena waggles her finger at him.

Chuck looks confused. "What did I do now?"

"Um, you are the reason Blair is at home tonight!" Serena pouts. "My best friend is going to be totally out of commission for the next six months-unless she does the smart thing, of course-and it's all your fault!"

Chuck thinks he might know what Serena is talking about, but it doesn't make any sense. Blair told him the test was negative. "What do you mean, it's my fault?"

Serena leans up to drunkenly whisper in Chuck's ear. "You made her pregnant, silly!"

Chuck's mouth drops involuntarily. He can't help it. Blair had told him the test was negative. "She said it was negative."

Serena pouts again."Uh-uh, was not.I saw the pink lines."

Chuck frowns. It was silly for Blair to lie to him. After all, it would be pretty obvious soon that she was pregnant…

Unless she wasn't planning on keeping it.

The thought hit Chuck like a freight train. He staggers a little and Serena looks at him like he's a loon. "What's wrong, Chuckie?"

Drunken Serena is too much for Chuck to handle right now.

"Serena, where is Blair?" he asks urgently.

Drunken Serena rolls her eyes and collapses on Chuck. "At home, silly.I already told you that!"

Chuck motions for her to continue. "What was she doing there?"

"Sleeping, I guess.Why would I know?" She giggles.

Chuck decides that Drunken Serena is of no more use to him. He spots Mr. Daniel Humphrey, aspiring poet walking out of the kitchen and drags Serena's limp body towards him. He dumps Serena into Dan's confused arms and walks quickly out of the room, fingers reaching automatically towards his phone.

--CB--

Blair walks meekly into the Planned Parenthood clinic making sure to keep her head down. She knows Gossip Girl and disciples are always watching with their camera phones. Some might call it paranoia, but Blair has had her dirty laundry aired on the website enough times to be more than a little cautious.

Thankfully, it is not a busy time for the Planned Parenthood clinic, it being 7:38pm on a Friday night as the clock on the glass door from the foyer informs her. In fact, it is so deserted the receptionist is already cleaning up for closing-time.

Blair walks up to the main desk. "Excuse me?" She asks."I'd like to have an abortion, please." The awkward bluntness of this sentence is not lost on Blair, but she isn't exactly experienced in dealing with these kinds of situations.

The receptionist looks up from filing papers. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No."

"Are you under eighteen?"

"Yes." Blair figures that lying wouldn't help her case. After all, I.D. was probably necessary to have the abortion performed anyway.

"All abortive procedures are administered only by appointment, ma'am."

"May I make an appointment?"

"Yes, ma'am. Can I see your I.D.?"

After some hesitation Blair pulls out her school I.D and hands it to the receptionist, who glances at it briefly.

"And can I see your health-insurance card?"

Blair blanks."I don't have one of those."

"You don't?" The receptionist looks puzzled. Despite Blair's raggedy clothes she holds herself with the air of someone with money.

"It's on file at my doctor's office; I never need to use it."

"Well, I suppose you could use an alternate form of payment."

"Such as?"

"Most people use credit cards, but you could probably slide by with a check or cash."

Blair looks into her wallet. She doesn't want the charge to show up on her credit card but she doesn't have enough cash.

"Ma'am?"

Blair sighs. "Can I pay when I arrive at the appointment?" She figures she'll withdraw some cash from her account in small increments over the next week so her mother doesn't get suspicious.

"Of course, ma'am. When would you like this appointment to be?"

Blair considers. "Is next Friday afternoon doable?"

The receptionist scrolls through the appointment schedule on her computer and types briefly. "Alright, your appointment is at 3:35pm on Friday but please be here by 3:15pm to fill out forms."

Blair enters the date and time into her Sidekick as _Doctor's appointment re: stomach problems. _"Thank you!" Blair tells the receptionist as she turns on her heel and walks out.

--CB--

The call to Blair went straight to voicemail, telling Chuck that her phone is off.In order for her to ignore a call, it has to ring first. That thought comforts Chuck only slightly.Chuck clicks off the phone as he hears Blair's cheery, "Hi, it's Blair Waldorf!I'm not here right now, but…" What, exactly, would he say in a message?

He sits down dejectedly on the sidewalk outside of Kati's apartment building. He dials Blair's home number at her apartment, but there is no answer. He knows that Blair can never resist answering the phone, so she must not be at home. This thought does not comfort Chuck in the least.

Chuck's hand rubs his temple, trying to figure out why the baby issue irritates him so much. He is fully aware of the difficulties of a child growing up on the Upper East Side; he experienced every one. Yet the idea of a permanent reminder of the nights shared with Blair sounds increasingly appealing.He wonders if a baby will bring him closer to Blair.

He remembers a photograph of himself as a toddler in the Bass suite, wearing his tiny monogrammed scarf around his neck and looking proudly into the camera. Then he tries to picture his father actually being somewhere near when the photo was taken. Chuck wonders if it is possible for a kid to grow up on the Upper East Side with parents that actually care about him, and if so whether the kid would grow up a little less screwed up than his blue-blooded peers.

Chuck realizes that this might be his chance at redemption. Create a kid with a chance of actually using his money for worthy causes and cancel out the immoral actions of the father. Somehow he doubts Blair sees it this way.Blair likes to think of herself as pristine, the moral paragon for lesser mortals, her subordinates. Chuck is fully aware of the lengths Blair will go to keep her image this way.

Suddenly it occurs to him what Blair is doing. She is fixing her problems. He calls the 4-1-1 information number. When it picks up, he asks the man brusquely, "Can you give me the address of the nearest Planned Parenthood clinic?"

--CB--

Blair sits on the bench in the lobby of the clinic. She is not sure what to do next. It is now 7:54pm on a Friday night and she is pregnant. Blair might have been troop leader of the elite Girl Scout troop she and Serena joined, but she isn't prepared for this situation.

The receptionist keeps glancing warily at Blair. She clearly has a million other things to do when she closes the clinic. Go home to her boyfriend, probably. Blair doesn't think she can face Nate right now.

Suddenly, Chuck bursts through the door of the clinic. He sees her down face and asks, "Did you get rid of it?" He holds his breath as he waits for a response.

Blair's mouth wavers, slightly. "No," she says.

"Oh thank God," Chuck whispers to himself before hugging Blair. "I knew you wouldn't go through with it."

Blair's mouth tightens. "Only because I had to make an appointment, dipshit.This thing is out of me by 3:42 pm next Friday."

Blair thinks she can see sadness in Chuck's eyes, but is sure she must be imagining things. "Blair…" he pleads, surprised as his own vehemence on the issue.

Blair shakes her head. "This isn't _Juno_.I'm not going to freak out at the clinic because it has fucking fingernails and not go through with it. This is real life, Chuck, and you and I both know this baby doesn't stand a chance in the real world."

Chuck looks at her, for the first time in his life with what might be disappointment. "You'll regret this."

Blair thinks he is threatening her. "Like what, you're going to blackmail me with this or something? Get over it, Chuck."

Chuck looks surprised. "No, not because of anything I do, Blair."

Blair makes a "then what?" expression.

"Because you'll always wonder what would have happened if you had kept it."

Blair looks at Chuck openly. "I don't have that option, Chuck."

Chuck looks honestly at her. "Of course you do. You always have options. Some are just harder than others, that's all."

"What are my options, then, Mr. Know-It-All?"

Chuck holds up his hands and puts three fingers up. "First option is to abort it."As he ticks off one finger he looks meaningfully towards the clinic desk. It is 8:03pm and the receptionist is glaring. "The second option is to give the baby up for adoption." He ticks off another finger. "And the third option…the third option is to keep it." Last finger.

"The last one isn't an option, Chuck."

"Really?"

"I can't raise a baby."

"We could raise it together."

"If you haven't noticed, Chuck, I have a boyfriend. A home. A life. I'm kind of set on the family front. Adding a runt and a smarmy man-whore won't exactly improve that situation."

"Just because you don't like the option doesn't mean it isn't an option, Blair."

Blair's mouth twists in annoyance. "Fine, it's an option.But I pick the first one."

Chuck looks at her again, calmly. Blair is really starting to get a little fucking annoyed with those calm, silent looks of his. "Just do me one favor first."

Blair leans her head back against the wall. "Anything, if it will keep you off my back about this."

"Go see my doctor first."

Blair gasps. "I will not!" The less people that knew about the baby, the better.

"I'm not going to make you do anything. I just want to make sure you're healthy enough for an abortion and all that jazz. Make sure you know your options."

Blair glares, almost as hard as the receptionist. "Fine."

Chuck's face relaxes. "Good."

"But it has to be soon. I want to make sure I keep my appointment on Friday."

"Don't worry about it. I'll call and arrange it."

"But once I have the appointment, you have to let me do what I want."

"I'll let you make up your own mind."

Blair nods. "Okay, then."

"I'll call you about the appointment time when I make it."

They stare at each other without saying anything. The silence is broken by the receptionist tapping on the glass at them.She points angrily to the clock, which reads 8:08pm. Chuck pulls Blair out of the building with him.

She yanks her arm out of his grip when they get outside. They take separate taxis home.

--CB—

A/N: This chapter might never have been posted had it not been for the nagging, er, encouragement, of gleechild. She contacted me when I was feeling a bit down about the fact that this story was no longer totally AU (hate to spoil people, but if you're reading this fic, you've just about figured out the plot for the next week's episode "The Thin Line Between Chuck and Nate"). She even agreed to beta the fic and offer some plot suggestions so Chuck didn't come off as a mysterious wimp. Or if he did anyway, that is entirely my own fault and not hers. So thank you gleechild!

Thank you all for reading and please review! I want to know what you guys think about me continuing this despite the fact I will now be majorly clashing with canon's handling of a similar situation.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl, nor do I own any of the fabulous places/fashions mentioned below. Sadly.

--CB--

The Third Option Chapter 4

Blair wakes up Saturday morning by nine. Too anxious to sleep restfully, she is happy to finally be able to justify getting out of bed. A Waldorf never rises before nine on a weekend.

Blair floats downstairs in her nightgown, thrilled her father is coming into town. She last saw him when he visited with Roman at Christmas. He is in town today ostensibly to visit Blair but she knows he simply arranged to stay a day longer after his meetings with advertisers for his new wine company on Friday.

Still, this doesn't bother Blair. Not today. She is happy to finally be around her father, an unconditional supporter. Harold Waldorf has always thought the sun shined solely on his little girl. After Serena and Chuck both attacking her decision, she is ready for a little extra love and attention.

Speaking of Chuck…Blair remembers the message he was supposed to leave for her regarding the doctor's appointment. She returns to her room briefly to grab the phone she left there last night before heading back down the stairs. She powers up her phone for the first time since the previous night and nervously checks to see if she has a message from Chuck.

She doesn't, but she does have numerous messages from both close friends and social hanger-ons that are hoping to curry favor with the queen, asking if she has recovered from her mysterious illness the previous day. Blair smirks when she sees the large quantities of gossip people send to her. She is not surprised at all to receive a worried message from Iz about the horrendously tacky guy that Kati hooked up with after too many Jell-O shots, but she does register some surprise regarding a picture of Serena somebody sent her. In it, Serena drunkenly hangs all over Dan as Dan steadies her. As far as Blair knew, Dan had been encouraging Serena to not attend such parties anymore, much to Blair's distaste.

Blair is distracted from her perusal of the previous night's gossip by Dorota's approach.

"Breakfast, miss?" Dorota asks politely.

Blair nods her head. "Yes, thank you Dorota."

Dorota leads Blair to the couch where a tray of food awaits in front on the coffee table. Blair inwardly rolls her eyes at Dorota's mothering, noting the vitamin pills placed conspicuously on the side of the plate. Yet Blair appreciates such gestures. With her father gone small tokens of affection are just as conspicuously absent from her life.

Under Dorota's watchful eye, Blair sits down to eat breakfast. After all, she has a full day ahead.

--CB--

Blair steps out of the taxi in front of her father onto the sidewalk on Madison Avenue in front of Barneys, the first stop of the day. After an elegant lunch at the Waldorf Astoria, she is rejuvenated from her sleepless night.

She is disappointed that Roman couldn't join them on their day of shopping. Harold brought him out there mostly to see Blair, but then informed Blair at lunch that unfortunately Roman is feeling under the weather and may not join them until dinner. Still, despite the fact that Harold wasn't a former model, he had pretty good fashion sense.

Harold steers Blair past all of the tourists visiting Barneys' flagship store and they walk towards the parts of the store the tourists do not usually visit. It is one thing to purchase the twenty-eight-dollar Bobbi Brown lip tints, but it is another to do more than admire the $1,190 Manolo Blahnik boots.

"Darling," Harold tells Blair as they approach the clothing section. "I want you to have nice clothes this spring. I know your mother is a designer-"

Blair rolls her eyes quite noticeably at that. Her mother is a talented designer, one must admit, but she is not exactly providing Blair with a brand-new one-of-a-kind wardrobe solely from her collection.

"-But sometimes I worry she doesn't pay enough attention to your clothes," Harold muses. "Your outfits are always lovely and fashionable, don't worry, but it's always nice to have somebody buy new clothes for you, isn't it?"

Blair smiles at her father who grins back. She wasn't really surprised her father was gay, looking back. Though it was difficult at the time, she certainly now enjoys the benefits of having a guilty and indulgent father.

Blair and her father pick things off the shelves and racks to try on. By the time the cashier is ringing up the purchases Blair has amassed a collection of new spring clothes that includes a reasonably priced double-breasted jacket and a nine hundred dollar belted satin dress, as well as of course the aforementioned thousand-plus dollar Manolo boots. Blair hugs her father sweetly as he carries the shopping bags out of the store.

"Thanks, Daddy!" Blair squeals happily.

Harold smiles gently at his daughter. "Don't mention it," he says, meaning it. Although Blair touts the benefits of having an overcompensating father, Harold is fully aware that she would prefer him to live in New York.

Blair's phone buzzes, interrupting the father-daughter moment. Blair flips the screen open and presses "Read" to the "1 New Message" on her screen.

_Appt. is Monday at 4 at Doctor Walsh's on Madison._

Though the message is unsigned, Blair's phone informs her that the sender is Chuck. As if she didn't already know. Chuck's signature is all over the message, from its crisp brevity to the lack of "Don't be late" reminders. Blair likes that Chuck knows that Blair would never be late to such an important event, despite her dislike of it.

"Who was the message from, darling?" Harold asks as he hails a cab.

Blair tucks her phone away in her purse. "Oh, I just asked Dorota to let me know when a package came for me. So where are we going next?"

--CB--

Chuck breathes a sigh of relief as he texts the message to Blair as he lounges in his suite. He is proud that he managed to squeeze them in at an appointment at his family doctor. Doctor Walsh is highly coveted in Upper East Side society due to her legendary discreetness. They could run an illegal drug trafficking set up in reception and she would calmly lie to investigators about it.

Chuck hopes that this quality in Doctor Walsh will reassure the worries of the anxious Blair. He is jerked out of his musings when his phone buzzes. He is surprised, since he didn't expect Blair to respond to his message. Without looking at the Caller ID he answers the call.

"Hey, darling," he says smoothly.

"Hello to you too, Chuckie," a girlish voice that is definitely not Blair's responds.

Chuck doesn't recognize the voice at all. He glances down at his phone, which informs him a Katherine Winslow is on the phone. His forehead crinkles as he tries to recall her face. "How are you, Kitty?"

"Well, I was wondering if you wanted to get together to chat…" her voice trails off nervously. "You know, about the ball we are attending together in a few weeks?"

Chuck is bewildered, but doesn't want to tell her that. "Just one second, honey," he tells her in a sugary voice before cupping his hand over the mouthpiece. He knocks on the locked adjoining door to his father's Plaza suite. A few seconds later Bart opens the door and looks at Chuck quizzically. His son is not usually one to initiate father-son conversations.

"Am I going somewhere with Katherine Winslow?" Chuck hisses at his father.

Bart looks confused. "Of course you are. At least that's what her father, Alexander Winslow, told me."

Chuck makes a motion at him to explain.

"Mr. Winslow told me that you asked her to the St. Patrick's Ball the other day at school. Apparently Katherine is very excited."

Chuck grimaces. "Dammit." He realizes that he must have asked her distractedly right after he handed Blair the pregnancy test at Constance Billiards. He shuts the door in his father's face and turns back to the phone. "Sorry about that, Katherine, I had a business thing to attend to. Anyway, about the ball-"

"Yes, about the ball," Katherine interrupts, having clearly rallied her confidence during the break. "I was hoping we could get together tonight to get to know each other a bit better before we are presented together. Is that alright?"

Chuck rolls his eyes. "Sure," he acquiesces. "Is the Oak Room alright? It's at the Plaza. I'll meet you there at seven-thirty."

--CB--

Blair casts a critical eye over her appearance in the three-hundred-and-sixty-degree mirror at Saks Fifth Avenue, trying to discern whether the Missoni striped mini dress makes her look skinny or plump. She considers for a while before deciding it is the perfect outfit for a cocktail dinner she is attending next week.

Before taking the dress off, she notices something. She is sure she must be imagining it when she leans in to check: her chest is bigger. Blair is momentarily confused-she hasn't gained a pound since her little bulimia problem started-and then realizes the cause of her brief weight-gain anxiety. The pregnancy.

Blair's rebellious eye stares, transfixed, at her stripe-covered stomach. It still appears flat, but in her mind's eye Blair pictures it expanding to the size of a beach ball. With a baby inside.

Blair does not buy the Missoni dress after all.

--CB--

At the end of the afternoon, Blair has sweet-talked her father into purchasing nearly everything she desired in the New York designers' spring collections. Among quite a bit else, she is now the proud owner of a strapless, sequined Badgley Mischka dress, a black leather Miu Miu tote, and embellished spring collection Bvlgari sunglasses. Blair reflects that the shopping day so far has been very productive.

She only needs for the dinner to be equally successful. Blair knows that her father has always been fond of Nate but neither male has spent much quality time together in the past year. Blair ponders how to get her father and Nate to bond as she and her father share a taxi to their seven-thirty dinner. She is excited that Roman will be joining them, at least, after spending the day resting in the hotel he is staying at with Harold.

"Blair?"

Blair is jerked back to the present at the sound of her father's voice. "Yes?" She replies politely.

"We're here," Harold says, raising an eyebrow. He exits the taxi and holds the door open for Blair.

Blair looks up at the building in front of them. The Plaza Hotel. Blair's heart plummets. She pastes her favorite society smile on her face. "Thanks, Daddy! It's so sweet of you to take me here."

Harold smiles, pleased with his choice of venue now that it has Blair's approval. "I'm glad you like it, darling. I know how beautiful you found the Oak Room when you were younger. Now that it has been reopened to such grandeur, I thought perhaps you might enjoy revisiting it."

Blair's smile appears so genuine that anybody might be fooled. She links her arm through his as they walk into the lobby. "I'm glad you remembered, Daddy."

--CB--

Nate and Roman meet them at the restaurant. Blair looks around at the familiar mahogany surroundings and decides that her memories of the place might seem sweeter without the taint of Chuck on the entire Plaza Hotel.

While the water service is being poured Blair sits quietly, her face placid, as her boyfriend and father chat pleasantly. She offers only an occasional comment to reassure her companions of her state of consciousness. She is on edge under her mask, nervous both about the ongoing dinner and the week ahead.

Roman glances at her sympathetically. Like Blair, he has talked little so far. He does not know Nate very well and compounded with his tiredness from a day of sickness he is ready to return to his hotel suite despite the fact that the dinner has not yet been served.

Roman wonders why Blair is so uncharacteristically silent. He surmises that perhaps it is the fault of Nate, her new/old boyfriend. Roman observes the boy briefly and notes his friendly if bland personality. Roman knows Blair is everything but bland.

--CB--

Chuck walks into the restaurant with Katherine on his arm. He stands impatiently at the entrance, waiting for service.

He does not have to wait long. As usual, the hostess rushes up to him. He only has to hold up two fingers and she leads him towards a table.

Katherine giggles and chatters next to him as they stroll through the restaurant. Clearly, being on such a notable bachelor's arm is too much for her tiny composure to handle.

Suddenly, Chuck's eye catches on something. He sees Blair and Nate eating with Harold and Roman at a large, empty table.

He notices Blair's composed and quiet demeanor, such a contrast from her usually vivacious and bossy self. He wonders if it is a pregnancy side effect before realizing it is probably a side effect of being around Nate.

"Chuck!" Harold calls out excitedly upon noticing him.

Crap, Chuck thinks to himself. He had forgotten that Harold and Bart had done plenty of business together before Harold moved to France. He smiles winningly at Harold and walks over for a handshake, arm outstretched. "Mr. Waldorf! I haven't seen you in ages!"

Harold rises briefly to shake Chuck's hand. "It's been too long, Chuck. I haven't seen you or your father in a while. You should come visit us at our vineyards in France! And please, call me Harold."

Chuck grins at him. He always liked Harold. "On a double date with your daughter, Harold?" He jokes, gesturing towards Roman, Nate and Blair.

Harold laughs. "Just a night out with my extended family. You know Nate is practically my son now," he winks. Nate smiles sheepishly at Chuck with a 'what can you do?' expression. Blair looks at Chuck in annoyance, her expression clearly saying 'get out!'

Chuck's jaw tenses almost imperceptibly but he continues anyway. "Of course," he smiles weakly.

Katherine coughs slightly next to him.

"Oh, sorry darling!" Chuck purrs. "Harold, please meet my date Ms. Katherine Winslow. Katherine, Mr. Waldorf," he gestures.

Harold holds out his hand. Katherine giggles as he kisses it lightly. "Lovely to meet you, Ms. Winslow. This is my partner Roman, my daughter Blair, and her boyfriend Nate." He motions at all of them.

Roman and Nate wave weakly and Blair simply raises her eyebrows. She recognizes Katherine as one of the wannabes at Constance Billiards without the subtlety to rise in the ranks. Katherine blushes at the thought of Blair Waldorf noticing her. After all, Blair Waldorf is the Queen Bee at Constance.

The hostess has been waiting patiently as Chuck and Harold chatted, but now she clears her throat. "If you'll excuse me, Mr. Bass, your table awaits you over there."

Harold turns towards the hostess. "Nonsense, they'll sit with us. We haven't even ordered yet so it should be fine. That's all right, isn't it, Chuck?"

Chuck nods in assurance. "Of course, we'd love to join you," he says smoothly as the hostess rushes to find two extra chairs and place settings. Blair's glare is pure rage.

--CB--

Harold orders a bottle of the finest Merlot to drink as they await appetizers. The waiter pours it into each glass, not bothering to check the ages of any of the clearly-under-21 members of the party. When one's last name is Waldorf or Bass, even at the Plaza they let things slide.

As the waiter is pouring, Harold tries to make small talk with Chuck. "So, Chuck, what brings you here tonight? Just a date with the darling Ms. Winslow?"

Chuck longs to affirm this, to annoy Blair further, but does not want to lead Katherine on. "Well, Harold, I am escorting Ms. Winslow to the St. Patrick's Ball in a few weeks-its hosted by the Clover Society, remember?-and we wished to discuss our plans further."

Harold pauses for a second before he places the memory. "Of course! Their St. Patrick's ball is simply delightful. Blair, aren't you the chair of some committee involving that?"

Blair nods only slightly patronizingly. "Yes, Daddy, I have been on their Events Committee for the last four years. This year they elected me chair. The St. Patrick's Ball will be my first real event of the season." Chuck smirks at Blair as Nate looks at her adoringly.

"That's wonderful, honey!" Harold beams approvingly at his daughter.

"I don't mean to interrupt," Roman began, "but what exactly is the Clover Society?"

"It's a prestigious club on the Upper East Side," Blair explains, falling into her high society voice. "They have many facilities including a work-out center, many meeting rooms, and a pool. Members can even stay in some of the fancier suites there on special occasions. They also have a grand ballroom they use to throw many parties and auctions."

Roman raises his eyebrows, awed. "Impressive."

"So how long have you known Chuck?" Harold asks, directing the question towards Katherine.

Katherine smiles serenely, playing the role of debutante girlfriend that Chuck wishes she would abandon. "Oh, we've known each other a while, haven't we, darling?" She nudges him. Chuck looks at her without responding. "Through school and such."

Chuck knows that Katherine is trying to raise her social standing by making Blair think that she knows Chuck well. Unfortunately for Katherine, Chuck also knows that any association with him will only lower a girl's social standing in Blair's book. And as every girl at Constance Billiards knows, Blair's is the only book that counts. So Chuck says nothing.

Katherine, upon noting that her statements drew no reaction from the group, attempts to get into their good graces. "I would like to propose a toast," she says loudly. "To Blair, for the upcoming ball, for luck."

"Blair doesn't need luck," Nate jokes. "She's skilled enough without it."

Katherine looks crestfallen for a second before Roman rescues her kindly. "I agree, mademoiselle, a toast is quite appropriate. After all, hosting a ball is quite difficult."

All the table members pick up their wineglasses. "To Blair!" Harold crows.

"To Blair," the rest of the group echoes except Blair, who smiles. Everybody takes a sip. But as Chuck looks closely, Blair only brings her glass to her mouth before putting it back down. He takes the observation that she wishes to protect her unborn child as a good sign.

--CB--

Chuck stumbles into Blair as she exits the bathroom into the hallway.

"Watch it!" She hisses. "And watch your hands!" Chuck had tried to steady her after knocking into her.

Chuck holds his hands up. "Sorry, sorry, just trying to help."

"If you had wanted to help, you wouldn't be here."

Chuck looks at Blair questioningly. He was only on his way to the bathroom himself.

"This was supposed to be a nice, quiet family dinner with my father, Roman, and Nate!"

Chuck laughs. "Are you serious? That's got to be the most boring family dinner I've ever seen. You're barely speaking!"

Blair opens her mouth to say something before silently conceding.

Chuck grins. "It's good to be right for once."

Blair raises her eyebrows skeptically. "Something you are not right on is that…girl," Blair says, spitting out the final word with distaste. "Katherine is a complete disaster. Besides being a total airhead, she is also a gold digger."

"I love gold diggers," Chuck smirks. "They're a major factor in me getting laid every night for the past year."

Blair sniffs. "That's disgusting, Bass."

"What can I say?" Chuck shrugs. "You love it."

"You wish, Bass," Blair hisses at him again before stalking back to the table.

--CB--

Blair wakes up Sunday to the light coming through her silk curtains. She looks around groggily. As she gets up to wash her face, she reflects on the previous night. What a disaster. She can't believe that Chuck crashed her family dinner with Nate.

Speaking of the devil…her ever-present phone buzzes on the counter. She sees the Caller ID, sighs, and presses "Talk."

"I can't believe you did that!" Blair shrieks, an uncharacteristic noise for her before eleven am.

She can practically here Chuck rolling his eyes. "Blair, darling, I was just calling to apologize."

Blair snorts. "No you weren't."

"Yeah, well, it wasn't my fault. How was I supposed to know you had picked that particular night spot for your double date with daddy?"

"You were supposed to tell him no when he asked you to eat with us!" Blair said grumpily.

Chuck sighs in annoyance. "You know I couldn't, Blair, don't be ridiculous. And-"

Blair cuts him off. "Why are you calling, then, if not to apologize?"

"I was just making sure you got my message about the appointment time."

"Of course I did," Blair said exasperatedly. "And while we're clarifying things, let me make sure you know that you were not in fact playing footsie with Katherine last night, you were sliding your foot up my leg! Don't let those kinds of mistakes happen again; they're very annoying, Bass."

"Who says it was an accident?" Chuck says innocently. Blair knows he is smirking.

"I'll see you tomorrow at the doctor's," she says sharply before hanging up on his laughter.

Blair exhales deeply as she sets the phone back on her counter. She rinses her face with a foaming cleanser and stares at her reflection as she wipes the white foam off with her washcloth. She isn't sure if she even recognizes herself anymore.

She picks the phone back up and presses speed dial 2.

Serena answers after the first ring. "Blair?"

"Can you come over?" Blair doesn't wait for a response. "We're watching Audrey Hepburn movies, so bring your comfiest pajamas."

Serena can tell that it's going to be one of Blair's infamous pajama days where she does nothing but watch movies and paint her nails. Serena also knows that Blair only has those when she really, really needs to decompress. "I'll be right over."

--CB--

Author's Note: A big thank-you so far to all of my AMAZING reviewers! Please keep it up . An apology to any reader that had not yet seen "Juno" when I posted the last chapter. As one helpful reviewer pointed out, I did spoil the movie a little bit. I tried to only include plot points that were in the previews but I suppose I did reference it too much, so for that I am very sorry!

Thank-you to my fab, fab, fab beta gleechild and all of the work she has put in to improve this story. Thank you darling!

Update-wise…I don't really feel like going into Rel Lyfe issues, but I am sorry it took me so long to update and the next chapter should be up much sooner! I also have written about two thirds of a Blair-centric B/C one-shot that I will post sometime next week, so keep your eyes open! (Yes, Shameless Pimping, I know…)


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The girls at Constance Billiards are surprised on Monday morning when Blair Waldorf arrives in a particularly good mood. Instead of her usual cool response to any friendly greetings, Blair actually compliments the outfits of two different girls, who immediately turn pink in the cheeks at being addressed by the Queen Bee while the others look jealously on.

All the girls in the courtyard exchange happy glances as Blair continues to dole out pleasantries. Life at Constance Billiards is always easier when Blair Waldorf is content.

--CB--

At lunch, Blair sits at her usual spot on the steps of the Met with Serena, Kati, Iz, and the rest of her minions. Although Nate often comes to visit her at lunch, he observes that today Blair seems to be in her element among her crowd and he does not want to disturb that balance. He knows that although Blair seems to be happy, her cheeriness can change to cloudiness at the drop of a particularly ugly hat.

So Blair is content as she holds court among her peers. The sky is cloudless and bright and her new outfit, purchased by her loving father, looks especially lovely in the sunlight.

"I love your jacket, Blair!" Kati offers, noticing the double-breasted jacket Blair picked up at Barney's. "It must have come straight off the runway from Chanel. So chic!"

Blair beams at Kati. "Yes, it's straight out of their spring collection. You don't think it's too...mundane?"

"Of course not!" Iz reassures her, before squealing. "Your shoes! They're too cute. And they match your jacket perfectly!"

Blair smiles in satisfaction and rearranges her legs so that her new Manolo Blahnik boots are more visible. "Thanks, Iz. Are those new earrings?"

Iz reaches up to touch her bow-shaped earrings self-consciously. "Betsy Johnson's new line. I wasn't sure. What do you think?"

"Totally adorable," Blair tells her encouragingly.

"So, Blair, did you have a good weekend?" One of the girls asks nervously. "I didn't see you anywhere."

Blair shrugs. "Yeah, I was feeling a little under the weather. I'm going to the doctor today. That's why I skipped the party on Friday night. By the way, I'm sorry about that, Kati," she apologizes generously.

Kati is about to respond, presumably with a reassuring word, when they are interrupted by Katherine Winslow.

"Hey Blair!" Katherine says cheerily. "How are you?"

It is clear to the girls that the particularly ugly hat must have dropped, because immediately Blair's genuinely merry face twists into a sour smile. They immediately hush as Blair responds sarcastically, "Good, thanks, Kathy."

Katherine notices the chill that has fallen over the group at her arrival. Although Katherine was popular for a sophomore, she had always been a rung below the popular clique, regarded as nothing more than a pretty wannabe. She saw the previous Saturday night's dinner as an excuse for her to talk to Blair and jump up a few popularity points.

"Saturday night was so much fun, wasn't it?" Katherine chirps. "It was great to meet Nate and your family."

Kati looks jealous for a minute that Katherine got to hang out with Blair before Iz leans over and whispers, "Her dad was in town; they went to the Oak Room at the Plaza. Apparently what's-her-face and Chuck ended up crashing." At Kati's questioning look, Iz explains: "It was on Gossip Girl." Kati nods knowingly.

"Wait-Katherine is with Chuck?" Another nearby girl named Hazel whispers. "No kidding?"

Iz rolls her eyes. "Gossip Girl didn't say, but you know Chuck doesn't do relationships. Little Kathy is probably just another gold-digging floozy."

The surrounding girls giggle. Although a certain level of upper-class wealth is required to attend Constance Billiards without a scholarship, only the upper fifth of the upper crust were truly trust-fund babies. Of course, those girls were the ones surrounding Blair Waldorf. The rest of the girls at Constance Billiards were considered gold-diggers whenever one of them slept with an upper crust boy like Chuck Bass.

Blair listens idly to the gossip as Katherine stands there, embarrassed. At last Blair replies. "It was fun, I'm sure," she comments coolly.

Katherine bravely tries one last time to improve her social status. "Hey, can I sit here? Since I'm already over here and all and lunch is mostly over…" she trails off as she sees the matching looks of disgust on Kati and Iz's face.

Blair keeps her face deliberately blank. "I would love to, Katherine," Blair says, dragging out the syllables in her name. "But unfortunately, its full here," she shrugs as she gestures to the girls in front of her. "Sorry."

"It's cool," Katherine says in a tiny voice before walking off, downcast.

Behind her, all the girls but Blair titter. Blair's mind whirs. Is Katherine really dating Chuck?

--CB--

"See you later, Natie," Chuck says in his most sugary voice as he waves good-bye to his best friend.

Nate laughs as he gets out of the sleek black limousine. As his best friend, Chuck usually gave him a ride home if he asked. Nate rolls his eyes at his friend's antics as he slings his backpack over his shoulder. "See ya tomorrow, loser," Nate jokes.

Chuck purses his lips in his best Blair imitation. "Nathaniel, if I didn't know you better I would think you didn't love me anymore!"

"I'm leaving!" Nate says with a grin as he shuts the door of the limo in Chuck's snickering face.

As the slam echoes in the limo Chuck relaxes. He flips open his phone to check the time: 3:28pm. He sighs, anxious. The chauffeur pokes his head around the seat.

"Hey, Chuckie, is there somewhere you'd like to go?" Harry, the family chauffeur since Chuck was a baby, was practically part of the family, like the goofy uncle that nobody has the heart to disinvite despite the fact that they aren't sure how he's related anymore. "Or can I just shut off the engine and get a cup of joe while you do your tortured rich boy bit?"

Chuck rubs his temples. "Do your thing, Harry," he says at last. "Just be back soon, okay? I need to be at the doctor's office in thirty minutes."

"Suit your self," Harry shrugs and scratches his head casually as he cuts the engine and locks the car with Chuck still inside, pondering.

Harry returns fifteen minutes later to the limousine, gulping down the last drops of his coffee, draining the cup. Before he gets into the front seat he opens the side door and wordlessly hands Chuck a paper cup of coffee.

As Harry puts the key in the ignition and the limousine speeds off toward Madison, Chuck takes a sip of the dark liquid.

It is rich and bitter, just how he likes it.

--CB--

Blair steps nervously out of the taxi on Madison, quickly pasting on the blank society face as she slings her Marc Jacobs purse over her shoulder. She pushes through the revolving glass doors to the office building in front of her. Blair thanks her lucky stars that Chuck picked a doctor in the same building where she usually gets her nails done. It is easier to pass this visit off as simply another visit to the salon.

It is easier for her to pretend to herself that this is just another day in the life of the fabulous, fearless, ferocious Blair Waldorf.

The receptionist nods courteously to Blair as she passes her. Blair smiles benevolently as she moves purposefully towards the elevator. Once the doors have slid shut, Blair presses an already-manicured nail to the button next to the words "Floor 8: Doctor Alexander Walsh."

As the elevator rises higher and higher in the building, Blair's heart is plummeting into her stomach. She is nervous enough already about the unborn child gestating in her womb without having to be harassed by some doctor (and Chuck) about it. Blair uncharacteristically gulps as her fingers flutter gently, unconsciously, onto her stomach.

--CB--

Chuck cannot keep a grin off of his face as he leans against the reception desk in Doctor Walsh's office. Although he is certain that Blair must be all butterflies inside, he is amused that no matter how dire the situation, his girl can still keep her composure.

He laughs to himself as she sashays into the office employing her usual gusto with the commanding air of one who owns the place (and sometimes Chuck suspects she does). She taps a perfect nail on the desk, waiting impatiently for the receptionist, a twenty-something curly-haired blonde with frightening blue eye shadow, to direct her to the doctor.

The receptionist hands her a clipboard to fill out and gives her a room number. She then points her to Chuck, who flashes both of them a dazzling smile. Only the receptionist wilts. Chuck crooks his little finger at Blair in a come-hither gesture. Blair, clearly not amused, sweeps dramatically past him towards the doctor's hallway, disappearing into one of the patient's waiting rooms.

Chuck saunters off, following Blair. The receptionist, apparently overcome by Chuck's beauty, just sighs wistfully at his departure.

--CB--

When Chuck enters the room, he sees Blair perched, cross-legged, on the examination table…or, as it might be more accurately described in this office, a lounge. Doctor Walsh's office lives up to its reputation as the medical stomping ground of the uppermost echelons of the Upper East Side with its luxurious modern décor and furnishings. Chuck takes a seat on one of the black leather armchairs provided across from Blair.

"So, how was your day?" Chuck asks as casually as possible.

Blair seems momentarily caught off guard before answering, voice as brittle as glass shards, "Not bad." She pauses. "Talked to your girlfriend a bit. I'd forgotten what a disgustingly tacky shrew she was." She shudders, visibly repulsed. "Ugh."

Chuck nearly chokes on the air he just inhaled. "My girlfriend?!"

Blair looks up at him briefly, curtly. "Yes, that girl, Kathy?"

Chuck looks disbelievingly at Blair.

"From Saturday?"

Chuck's mouth gapes open, then closes. He repeats this a few more times, looking remarkably like a frightened fish.

Blair snaps her fingers obnoxiously. "At the Oak Room? Hello?"

Finally Chuck manages to stutter out a few words. "She is definitely not my girlfriend."

"Well, thank God." Blair tosses her hair. "I know your standards are low, but if you picked her among the numerous gold-diggers hanging on your every slimy word then you must have really lost your touch."

"Well, I dated you, didn't I?" Chuck snarks back.

Blair recoils briefly, stung, before recovering. "Well-"

"Look, forget it," Chuck cuts her off. "It was a cheap shot, I'm sorry."

"You better be," Blair sighs, adjusting the bow-shaped barrette in her hair using the vanity mirror on the wall. "Apology accepted."

They sit in an awkward silence for the next eight minutes before Doctor Alexander Walsh enters following a brief knock.

Blair observes the doctor. He is in his mid-50s and balding, but still has a mostly smooth face with strong cheekbones. She thinks he looks a bit like Bart Bass, actually. She stifles a laugh as Chuck rises to shake Doctor Walsh's hand.

"I'm Charles Bass, sir, I don't know if you remember me from my last visit?"

"Of course I do, Mr. Bass, you had a particularly…" Doctor Walsh looks over at Blair. "Unique problem."

Blair is certain that the next words out of his mouth would have been "nasty case of STD" if she hadn't been there. Damn.

"And you are?" Doctor Walsh addresses Blair, interrupting her train of thought.

"Blair," she says with her best sycophantic smile. "Blair Waldorf."

--CB--

Blair refuses to change into the traditional paper hospital gown that most patients wear. Chuck sits there patiently, watching amusedly as Doctor Walsh attempts to administer a reflex test by tapping on the black tights covering Blair's knee.

After examining Blair's eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, Doctor Walsh clears his throat. Blair looks at him. "Are you done?" She asks in a supremely bored voice.

"Well," he says in a professional monotone, checking the sheet on the nurse's clipboard. "It says here that you need a full physical today. I still need to take out my stethoscope and check your heartbeat and breathing as well as complete breast and pelvic exams…"

"Nope, I'm good, thanks," Blair responds flippantly. "I think we've pretty much covered it. So, can I go?"

"Blair," Chuck tells her in the sternest voice he can muster. "You know that's not the deal."

"Chuck," Blair smiles saccharinely as their eyes lock. "This was exactly the deal."

As Chuck and Blair engage in an intense staring contest, Dr. Walsh looks back and forth between the two of them. "Why are you two here today?" He asks, confused.

Chuck wrenches his gaze away from Blair's to turn to Dr. Walsh. "Blair is pregnant, and I just wanted her to have a basic check-up to make sure, no matter which option she chooses, she's healthy."

Dr. Walsh furrows his eyebrows and checks the medical sheet. "It doesn't say how far along you are in your pregnancy on here, Ms. Waldorf."

To Chuck's surprise, Blair opens the clasp of her purse and removes an envelope, handing it to the doctor. He opens it and removes several sheets of medical information. Chuck, squinting surreptitiously out of the corner of his eyes, can make out the Planned Parenthood letterhead.

"So…you're thirteen weeks along?" Dr. Walsh asks Blair, who nods in confirmation. He scans the rest of the sheets for about thirty seconds before turning to her. "Well, everything seems to be in order. It seems that you are all set to go ahead with your abortion. Based on the test results here, it seems that there should be no long-term effects."

"Despite, of course, the lack of baby in six months," Chuck puts in nervously, not sure if the doctor is going to be on his side in this one.

"Sounds perfect!" Blair says cheerily, sliding off the examination table and smoothing out her skirt over her thighs.

"I'm glad you've made this choice," Dr. Walsh tells Blair approvingly, shaking her hand. "I always hate to see rash teenagers make stupid decisions about their future."

Blair looks briefly insulted as she removes her hand from his grasp. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you know," the doctor remarks as he begins to gather the medical papers. "I mean, they get all sentimental and start thinking they can raise these children-they're not fit at all for parenthood, of course."

Chuck stifles a laugh as he sees Blair's normally serene expression begin to twist in annoyance.

"Really?" Blair comments neutrally. "That's interesting."

"I mean, it's like they see kids as an accessory or something," Dr. Walsh grumbles. "Damn Hollywood and that Britney Spears with their pregnant fashions and movies."

Blair's eyebrows shoot up to the ceiling. "Movies?"

"Have you seen Juno?" The doctor complains. "It's making teen pregnancy fashionable, for god's sake. What those reckless teenagers are thinking, I just don't know. Stupid fools got pregnant in the first place; who even knows what they'll be like as parents?"

"Excuse me," Blair retorts, taking offense to the doctor's statements. "But I'm not a 'stupid fool.' Let me point out, Doctor," she says, stressing his title, "that I would be ten times the mother that any other parent on the Upper East Side could manage."

The doctor shoots her a look. "How many good mothers are murdering their children?"

Blair looks absolutely furious. "I'm not giving up this child," she spits out. "I'll raise it better than your mother raised you." She pauses. "Not that there's much of a bar to reach, you know."

--CB--

Chuck smiles to himself as he exits the building with an extremely upset and pissed-off Blair. Basically, exactly how Chuck likes her best.

Well, there is one other way that Chuck prefers her, but he didn't think mentioning it would improve Blair's mood.

"Stupid, idiot doctor," Blair mutters under her breath. "Just because he has a stupid M.D. or whatever, thinks he knows everything…"

"Were you serious?" Chuck interrupts Blair's grumbling. "I mean, about what you said in there."

Blair doesn't pretend to not know what he's talking about. "Of course I was."

"Were you really, really serious?" Chuck says. "I don't want you to feel forced into this or anything-"

"I told you I was keeping it, Bass," Blair snaps. "I said I was, didn't I?"

Chuck raises his eyebrows. "I suppose you did." He thinks for a moment, and looks like he is about to say something before Blair speaks up.

"Don't think that this makes us friends," Blair warns. "I'll do some research and see what I have to do to keep this…thing…and get in touch, okay?"

Chuck rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, send me a telegram. Since I won't see you every day or anything."

Blair glares. "And Bass?" She asks as she turns to hail a cab.

"What?" Chuck cocks his head as a taxi screeches to a halt in front of Blair, who opens the door.

"Keep your mouth shut," Blair says right before she steps into the car and slams the door.

--CB--

Blair bites her lip nervously as the driver takes her back to her apartment. She realizes she forgot to take appropriate security precautions when leaving the building with Chuck at her side. She figures she probably was just too angry to think about it.

She hopes desperately that Gossip Girl didn't snap a picture of that particular event.

Scratch that. Blair knows that they'll just assume Chuck went with her to get a manicure. She can see the headline now: "Chuck Bass-Finally Out of the Closet?"

She can't wait.

--CB--

Chuck stands under the awning of the Duane Reade on the next block over. He takes his cell phone out of his jacket and dials a few buttons before pressing the phone to his ear.

"It worked," Chuck says quietly into the speaker.

"I'm glad," Doctor Walsh's tinny voice floats out of the earpiece. "That girl seems like a tough one to convince."

"She's a firecracker," Chuck agrees. "Thanks for your help."

"In playing the big, bad, rude doctor?" Chuck can practically hear Doctor Walsh's grin. "Anytime."

--CB--

A/N: I think you guys are probably sick of me bitching about the RL reasons it takes me so long to get updates of this fic out, so I'll skip that part this time. I have already written about a quarter of the next chapter and outlined the next four or five, so updates might come quicker.

Thank you SO MUCH to gleechild for beta-ing and also generally being inspiring by not only writing awesome fic and also updating quickly. :)

So...what do you guys think of this chapter? I hope you liked it, and please review!


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Don't own Gossip Girl or any of the characters mentioned below. Nor do I own "American Idol" or the SAT. Although really, who would want to own the SAT?

--CB--

Blair wakes up Tuesday morning to her usual routine: lurch out of bed, stagger to the bathroom, and lose the contents of her stomach into the French porcelain toilet bowl. She briefly thanks the Lord that she will be rid of this…infection…in her stomach by Friday.

Then she realizes…

The baby infection will be around for the next six months.

Blair is sure the bitter taste in her mouth is not just from the vomit.

--CB--

Clad only in a bathrobe, Blair hunts around her closet for clothes to wear. She considers and discards dozens of miniskirt and sweater combinations.

As Blair sighs in frustration and turns around, intending to do her make-up at her vanity first, she nearly jumps in surprise. Her mother is at the doorway to her bedroom. Blair rubs sleepy eyes, disbelieving. She rarely sees her mother these days except for the occasional social function they attend together. Even then they usually arrive and leave separately.

"Honey?" Eleanor Waldorf addresses her daughter. "Are you okay? I need a favor."

As her mother takes a few tentative steps into the room, Blair studies her with interest. A black, business-y Chanel suit with a ruffled purple shirt underneath makes up her mother's new 'corporate' image. Her mother's hair, which used to be bouncy and curly and long during the height of her marriage to Harold, is pulled tight into a bun.

"I'm fine, Mom," Blair groans in a stereotypical sullen teenager voice.

"Good, good," Eleanor says absentmindedly. "So, how is school?"

Blair rolls her eyes. "I'm going to be late if you don't hurry up."

Eleanor blinks. "But you aren't dressed!"

Blair makes a 'duh' face, preferring not to respond. Instead she walks over to the vanity table and begins to apply cover-up to the bluish circles under her eyes. As she dabs foundation onto a sponge, her mother inspects the clothes hanging in Blair's closet.

"Darling, why don't you wear this skirt?" Eleanor suggests, indicating an adorable blue plaid miniskirt. Blair knows that particular skirt has the tiniest waistband in her closet. With Blair's slightly protruding belly, it definitely won't fit her.

"And you could pair it with this cashmere!" Her mother continues, taking a hanger with a soft gray sweater off the rack. She holds both of the items up: "See?"

Blair grabs the pieces of clothing from her mother. "I'll think about it, okay?" Eleanor's face turns sad, so Blair tries to salvage the situation. "What did you need from me again?"

Eleanor brightens. "Oh, I just wanted to talk to you about attending a function with me. It's the weekly tea party hosted at the Crystal Room. Usually it isn't very memorable, but this week they will be discussing the annual auction."

Blair considers. "When?"

"This Saturday," Eleanor informs her. "At three o'clock."

Blair's confirmation nod is the signal for Eleanor to move towards the doorway. But on the way out, she pauses. "Have a good day, sweetie," she tells her daughter before leaving.

Blair looks up from entering the event into her Palm. "Bye, Mom," she says almost inaudibly.

--CB--

Blair sits at lunch on Tuesday surrounded by the usual ruling clique. She discusses the plans for the Clover Ball with Iz as the rest of the girls giggle and chatter. Just as Blair begins discussing the decorations with Iz, she is interrupted by Kati.

"Look at that!" Kati whispers loudly to the circle of teens. She points across the courtyard to the table where Chuck and Nate are sitting.

At first, Blair notices nothing different. But then she sees exactly who Kati's finger is pointing at: Katherine Winslow. She is approaching the table of St. Jude's junior boys with a surprising amount of bravado for a wannabe sophomore.

"Guess she didn't get the hint from yesterday that she's not wanted around people like us," Iz gossips to the group.

They are too far away to hear what is being said. Though Blair and the girls spend a few minutes trying to decipher what is happening, they decide that it is futile and return to their frivolous discussions.

But across the courtyard, Chuck and Nate are experiencing Katherine Winslow firsthand. She approaches, clad in a tight, low-cut sweater that shows off the tops of her breasts paired with a pleated miniskirt so short that on each flounce Chuck half expects it to fly up and show her panties.

Chuck raises his eyebrows as she walks towards them, remembering what Blair told him the previous day. He supposes Katherine was trying a new tactic.

"Hey, Chuck," Katherine says in a husky voice. Chuck stifles a laugh. "Haven't seen you in a few days. How are you, baby?"

Chuck's eyebrows shoot up even further. "I'm good, Katherine, and yourself?"

"I'd be better if we could see each other more often," she admits in the sexiest voice she can come up with.

At this point, it is clear to all of the St. Jude's boys at the table that Katherine is basically throwing herself at Chuck, like so many others before her, so they just return to their conversations as usual. The only unusual part is that Chuck isn't really responding. However, Nate, eternally Chuck's wing man, gives Katherine a once-over before nodding to Chuck approvingly.

"Can I sit with you?" Katherine continues. "Maybe we can talk about hanging out later or something."

When Chuck doesn't respond, Nate jumps in to help his friend out. "Sure, Katherine, there's some space next to me right here," he tells her, pointing to the small space on the bench between him and Chuck.

"There's not a lot of room," Chuck notes flippantly.

"I'll squeeze," Katherine responds desperately, running her fingers along the edge of her miniscule skirt, drawing attention to her exposed legs.

Nate gives Chuck a look that clearly asks, '_What the hell are you doing?'_

"I'll move over a little," Nate helps Katherine into the small space, since Chuck clearly wasn't moving to aid her.

Katherine adjusts herself on the seat, practically glued to Chuck's left side. "So, what are you doing this afternoon, Chuck?"

Chuck shrugs, not really looking in Katherine's direction, and his arms brush her chest by accident because they are so close. Katherine takes this as a sign of approval by sucking her stomach in and pushing her breasts up even further. "Probably just relaxing," Chuck says disinterestedly.

"I could help you relax," Katherine purrs as she reaches for Chuck's hand underneath the table. She places their joined hands on her bare thigh and hikes her skirt up further. "It could be fun."

Chuck finally turns to look at Katherine square in the face for the first time. He sees that she's a pretty girl and though he might like Blair better, he is still a teenage boy—with raging hormones at that. He stretches his arm out and puts it around her shoulder. "Why don't I meet you after the school day ends, alright?" His fingertips brush the sides of her bra.

The tension is broken by the school bell ringing to signal the end of lunch. Everybody at the table disperses and Nate and Chuck walk together to their next class.

"Dude, she's hot," Nate congratulates Chuck appreciatively.

Chuck nods. "I know," he says distractedly. "Trust me, I know."

--CB--

Blair types away at her laptop, working on a history paper. She clicks over to Wikipedia to do some last-minute fact-checking just before her phone starts buzzing.

She picks it up without looking at the Caller ID. "Hello?"

"B?"

"S! What's up?" Blair asks, tucking the phone under her ear and returns both hands to her keyboard.

"I need some advice." Serena's worried voice flows into Blair's ear.

"Yeah?" Blair is distracted, working on her paper still. She types "Woodrow Wilson" into the search bar at Wikipedia and scrolls down to the section of his fourteen points.

"Well, I was talking to Dan today, and he said that Jenny doesn't like me anymore," Serena whines. "I guess she's been hanging out with Vanessa a lot and she must be poisoning her mind or something. I've been nothing but nice to her!"

"Of course," Blair says, scanning the section on the formation of the League of Nations. She highlights a section and copies and pastes it into her paper, putting a parenthetical citation at the end.

"She's just so ungrateful!" Serena complains. "God, I even helped her that first night with Dan and Chuck and everything."

Blair perks up. "What did Chuck do?"

Serena's eye roll can practically be heard over the phone. "He, like, tried to rape Jenny, hello, remember?"

Blair sighs. "She's a stupid, ungrateful skank, S. She probably threw herself at him."

"Jenny used to be sweet, B, I don't think she did that. Trust me, she hates Chuck now," Serena informs Blair.

"That makes two of us," Blair mutters, too quiet for Serena to hear.

"What did you say, B? I couldn't hear that," Serena chirps. "Hey, speaking of skanks, did you see Katherine Winslow at lunch today?"

Blair is suddenly very attentive. "I saw her walk over to the table with the St. Jude's junior boys where Nate usually sits, but I couldn't tell what was going on."

"Neither could I," Serena gossips, "but Kati and Iz were talking to Nate later and told me that she was all over Chuck. Like, rubbing her boobs all over him and putting his hand up her skirt and stuff."

"Seriously?" Blair asks. Although Chuck is a known playboy, he usually isn't much for letting girls get very touchy-feely with him at school. Blair knows that Chuck hates public displays of affection because it might make him look emotionally attached with a girl or something horrific like that.

"I know, totally slutty, right?" Serena comments. "I mean, I heard that Kathy approached you guys the other day while I was out to lunch with Dan, but who knew she was so serious about actually becoming popular?"

Blair shrugs even though she knows Serena can't see it. "The gold-diggers always are serious about becoming popular, S. It just never actually happens."

"You're right," Serena says. "So anyway, what do you think I should do about Jenny?"

"Screw her," Blair advises. "Dan likes you, you're his girlfriend, and what skanks think shouldn't matter to you."

"I guess," Serena sighs. "Hey, did you ever make an appointment at Planned Parenthood?"

Blair claps her hand over the receiver. "Hey, be quiet when you say that!" She whispers. "Somebody might hear you."

"Yeah, but nobody's in my apartment," Serena says in a 'duh' voice. "Don't worry so much. So, what happened?"

"I made an appointment for this Friday," Blair tells her truthfully.

"Do you need me to come with you?" Serena asks cautiously. "Just so you don't have to do it alone?"

"I have it under control," Blair says, not exactly lying. "Good-night, S, I have to do some homework. Love you, bye." She hangs up.

On the other end of the phone, Serena stares at the cell phone screen. Blair had been unusually evasive. Did Blair want this baby problem dealt with or what? Serena isn't sure any more.

--CB--

The first thing that Blair notices when she walks into the courtyard at lunch on Wednesday is that Katherine Winslow's skirt is even shorter today and the wearer of said indecent skirt is sitting next to Chuck Bass at Nate's usual place at the St. Jude's table.

This means that Nate was eating with her and her clique, and this makes Blair nervous. She had been walking on eggshells around her boyfriend ever since she told Chuck she would keep the baby.

Blair unconsciously sucks her stomach in a little bit when Nate heads over to her table instead of joining Chuck. Even though Blair knows that the only really noticeable aspect of her pregnancy is her slightly expanding breasts, she still worries that at any second someone will notice that her belly is no longer as 

flat as her weekly Pilates class used to keep it. Blair still goes to Pilates, but she now wears a tank top instead of a sports bra so her teacher won't notice that Blair is losing abdominal definition.

As Nate sits down next to Blair, she pretends to be thrilled to see her boyfriend. "Sweetie," she kisses him lightly on the cheek, "What a lovely Wednesday surprise!"

Nate slips his arm around her waist and squeezes her in what Blair is sure is meant to be an affectionate way, but she cannot relax and enjoy her boyfriend's company.

Nate frowns at her. "Blair, you're so tense!"

Blair shrugs and, shifting slightly, slips out of his grip. "Just a lot of work for school, that's all," she responds casually.

Nate smacks his head with his hand. "Damn. You just reminded me, I forgot about a history paper." He pauses, his eyes sparkling with innuendo. His smile alone causes many of the girls sitting at Blair's table to swoon.

"Hey, it's almost Friday, it'll all be over by then," he reminds Blair. "You free then? We can hang out."

Blair takes out her Palm Pilot automatically and scrolls down. She sees the Planned Parenthood appointment that she's no longer sure she'll be making and it is like a punch to the gut. "Friday's not so great," she tells her boyfriend. "Got some stuff to do."

Nate sighs. "Saturday, then, for brunch?"

"Um…" Blair clicks over to the next day on the little screen in front of her. "What time?"

He thinks. "Eleven at Café Angelique?"

"I'd love to," Blair types into her Palm before closing it. She flirtatiously tosses her hair, doing her best to pretend interest in the boy in front of her.

Nate grins and puts his hand over hers gently.

Across the courtyard, Katherine does her best to keep Chuck's attention by giggling loudly to his friends' inane stories and subtly shifting her shirt down to show as much of her chest as she can. The latter has captured the attention of every boy at the table…except Chuck, Katherine realizes. She follows his distracted gaze across the courtyard to where Nate and Blair are sitting and internally fumes.

She leans pointedly across to him while the St. Jude's boys practically drool down her cleavage. "Chuck, baby?" She flashes a hopeful smile at him. "Are we going to be hanging out again today?"

Chuck shakes his head as he turns back to Katherine, trying to quell the jealous rage rising in his stomach from the sight of Nate and Blair together. "Nah, I got stuff to do," he mutters.

Chuck sighs in frustration as Katherine gets up and flounces away, not even bothering to check out her ass as many of his friends are doing. It isn't that he wouldn't love to get revenge on Blair for doing this to him, but sex with any girl that isn't Blair just feels empty to him now. He groans in self-disgust. "What is wrong with me?" He asks to nobody in particular.

Another St. Jude's boy at the table looks at him in disdain. "A lot, clearly, if you're letting that go," he tells Chuck, gesturing to Katherine Winslow's retreating form.

Chuck groans again. Today is just not his day.

Across the courtyard, Blair smiles. This is definitely her day.

--CB--

Thursday night Blair is doing yet another homework assignment. It is a practice Document-Based Question for her APUSH test in May. She marks the passage she is reading carefully, circling key words and underlining important phrases.

Blair's mind drifts away from the prompt in front of her. She presses her fingers to her lips, remembering Nate's good-bye kiss that he gave her earlier that day after classes ended. Nate's kisses might not be as addictive as Chuck's, but Nate was certainly talented with his tongue.

She sighs, knowing that she might not get to kiss Nate again someday soon. He hadn't yet noticed the baby bump, but it was inevitable.

The inevitable was put off, however, by the fact that Blair is still withholding sex from her boyfriend. She knows that Nate thinks she is still a virgin, and there was no way to explain that change to him without getting into details that she prefer remain hidden.

Blair's mind then turns to Chuck. He certainly has been acting as if he will be a caring father. Blair is still skeptical because, after all, it's Chuck. The change from manipulative playboy to deeply involved sperm donor has been abrupt. Though it seems believable, Blair still has her doubts. Will Chuck really stay devoted to a future together, or is this an attempt by him to humiliate her?

And, of course, she has to decide between the two of them. Nate offers her the picture perfect society life, complete with that gigantic Archibald diamond for her ring finger. Choosing him will secure her a future of happiness, if not excitement. The other option is Chuck, whom almost nobody will approve of over Nate. Nate's gentlemanly ways had won them over.

There is also the small consideration of Chuck's incredible attractiveness. Sure, Nate isn't a bad kisser, but Chuck is absolutely mind-blowing. Chuck's innate sexiness was one of the many reasons that Blair impulsively agreed to sleep with him despite the fact that she had withheld her virginity from Nate for years.

Blair exhales. Unfortunately, Chuck, jackass that he may be, is the father of Blair's unborn child. Her current promise to Chuck that she would keep the baby seems to have made the choice between Nate and Chuck for her.

Yet Blair still wonders what would happen if she keeps her Planned Parenthood appointment. Even without a baby, would her heart still prefer Chuck to Nate? Or would she be finally able to put aside those pesky stirrings in her chest that she felt whenever she saw Chuck, and finally devote herself to Nate?

Blair knows that her decision to keep her appointment at Planned Parenthood or not to do so is a life-changing one. Without that appointment, she will have set herself on a path that is worlds away from the perfect future she had always planned. But did she really want that future anymore?

She taps her pencil against her exam paper and attempts to focus her mind on the question in front of her. She sighs. This is going to be a long night.

--CB--

Serena walks with Kati and Iz through the courtyard. They sit down at one table and wait for Blair to arrive.

Kati and Iz begin to chat about the episode of "American Idol" that aired the previous night and Serena quickly tunes out. Her eyes wander the courtyard and catch on Chuck.

Suddenly Blair walks up and notices the direction of Serena's gaze.

"Hey, S, what's so interesting?" Blair asks. She cocks her head and looks at Chuck also. As if Chuck can feel the power of B and S's combined gazes, he turns around.

Immediately both girls turn away. Serena looks at Blair accusingly, who pretends not to notice.

"What did you think about that one kid, David Archuleta?" Kati includes Blair in their conversation. "I liked him."

Blair regains her composure. "He is adorable," she agrees.

Kati seems to accept this and continues to discuss the show with Iz. Blair turns to Serena. "What?" Blair hisses.

Serena fixes her gaze briefly on Blair. Blair says nothing. Finally, Serena shakes her head. "You want to hang out tonight after…dinner?" Serena adds awkwardly.

Blair declines politely. "I'll probably just be sleeping," she explains. "I need to catch up, it's been a long week. But drinks at the Ritz tomorrow night?"

Kati and Iz seem to perk up when they hear this. Serena especially seems pleased. Drinks mean that Blair will no longer be pregnant.

Blair looks around at the three girls in front of her. "So I'll see you all there at nine-thirty?" They nod.

The rest of lunch passes pleasantly, with no more awkward nonverbal confrontations among the girls. Of course, that changes when Blair and Serena get up to clear their trays. On their way to the trash can, they bump into Chuck Bass.

Blair looks down nervously and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear.

"Hey, B, S, how are you two?" Chuck does his best to imitate the smarmy playboy he usually is. "Still gorgeous, I see."

Serena clearly has the memory of Blair telling her about her Chuck-induced pregnancy at the front of her mind. "We're fine, Chuck," she says icily. "And yourself?"

A smirk spread across Chuck's face. "I'm fabulous," he drawls, "thanks for asking."

Blair sees that Serena is about to slug Chuck in the face and exhales gratefully when she spots Dan heading towards them.

Dan swoops in to save the day. "Hey, Serena," he murmurs, kissing his girlfriend on the cheek. "Going my way, beautiful?" He pointedly steers Serena towards the classroom building.

Suddenly Blair and Chuck are left alone together, and they both make flimsy excuses before brushing past each other. Blair's shoulder tingles for hours afterwards from where Chuck's shoulder brushed hers.

The tingle only begins to fade by the end of the school day.

Blair returns to her apartment after school and quickly retreats to her room. She collapses onto her bed and restlessly dozes for a while. She tosses and turns, falling in and out of dreamland. Blair glances at the clock at one point. It is 3:30pm.

There is still time for her to take a taxi to the corner of Mott and Bleecker.

When she glances at the neon numbers after several more tries at peaceful sleep, it is 4:30pm and her appointment at Planned Parenthood is long past.

For some reason, this has a calming effect on her. Blair immediately falls into a deep slumber.

--CB--

Author's Note: Yeah. This chapter took a long time. You don't need to tell me that. The next chapter will be fun, though. I promise that somebody finds out about Blair's pregnancy, and it isn't Chuck or Serena!

Most importantly, thank you to my abfab beta gleechild. She beta'd this fic TWICE for me since I make a lot of mistakes. Any remaining errors are mine!

On another note, I did write two other Blair/Chuck fics while I put off writing this chapter. One of the fics is eleven chapters (and completed)! Also, I made a Blair/Chuck video, and I'm very, very proud of it. All of these things can be found on my profile and I would be super duper happy if you checked them out!

Another thing that would make me really happy is if you reviewed. Please? :)


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I own nothing, nothing, nothing. I mean, did you see the end of Gossip Girl Season 1? Did you think I would really have let that happen?

The Third Option Chapter 7

Blair wakes up Saturday morning with her stomach practically twisting with anxiety. She feels too stressed to even be sick, which she supposes is one benefit. She has not been enjoying morning sickness.

The reason Blair is even more anxious than usual? Her brunch with Nate in just-Blair checks the time on her cellphone-three hours.

Blair flops back down on her bed. That means she woke up at eight in the morning on a Saturday. What a perfectly disgusting hour.

Blair sighs and decides to at least be productive in her obsessive-compulsive anxiety. She manages to pull herself into a standing position and heads for the en suite bath.

An hour later, Blair's hair is wrapped in a regal-looking towel and her freshly scrubbed, waxed, and moisturized body is wrapped in a silk bathrobe. She walks over to her vanity and selects an expensive floral perfume, spritzing herself before she turns back to her room.

_Now_, Blair thinks to herself, _it is time to declutter._

She spends the next hour and a half sorting through her possessions. She cannot even begin to truly sift through all of them, but she does her best. Dried up liquid eyeliners are tossed in the trash next to the holey socks that had been hiding out at the bottom of their drawer. She places out-of-season shirts in a pile to give to Goodwill and recycles all the old school papers she can find. Blair even rearranges her closet, placing the clothes with the most elastic fabrics and the most forgiving cuts towards the center while pushing anything midriff-baring towards the sides.

It is cleansing and rejuvenating. Blair likes having a project and a purpose.

Suddenly her Palm Pilot beeps-the thirty-minute reminder for an event. She's supposed to be meeting Nate at eleven for brunch.

Blair now turns her attention to that most pressing issue. She scans her closet briefly. What to wear? She grabs an unworn BCBG dress that her mother picked up for her at the spring fashion shows.

She holds it up to her reflection. The strapless, dark blue bubble dress shows off her expanding cleavage while effectively camouflaging her expanding stomach. Blair pairs the look with a cream button-up sweater and doe-eyed makeup. After all, a hint of innocence is exactly the impression she wants to give off today. First the brunch with Nate, then the tea with her mother at three, then drinks at nine-thirty with her friends.

Blair is stepping into the cab by 11:50am. Blair does not intend to be obnoxiously late to meet Nate, but she has no intention of beating him there. She'd prefer _him _to squirm in wait, not her.

And Blair is sure that Nate is worried. The couple has barely had a real conversation in days, even weeks. How could Nate be anything but worried about the future of their relationship?

--CB--

'Worried' is probably not the correct adjective to describe Nate Archibald's state of mind as he approached brunch on that Saturday. 'Preoccupied' would be a generous descripton, but the most fitting might be 'disinterested.'

Nate used to look forward to seeing Blair. Sure, he may not have felt as passionately about her as he did Serena, but Blair always used to be fiery and exciting, if not exactly unpredictable.

However, ever since their breakup and makeup last November, Blair's personality seemed like it had been toned down around him. She acted normal around her friends, but whenever Nate talked to her he felt like he was talking to Blair Waldorf, Socialite Mannequin-Robot. She looked beautiful like the real Blair and even smoothed out the wrinkles from her clothes in the same way as real Blair, but her head might as well have been completely empty for all the similarities it shared with the real Blair.

Nate became fed up. Now, he is just putting up with her because of their family's business deal and his mother's pressure. He supposes that there is probably some leftover affection from their old friendship, but as far as romance goes Nate has no feelings for Blair any more.

Not that there is anything Nate can do about it. His hands are tied by his family and society. Dumping Blair Waldorf, Princess of the Upper East Side, would be the last straw before his family finally stumbled out of the upper echelons of the UES social ladder.

Nate arrives promptly at Café Angelique at 11am. His crisp pale blue button-up shirt and light khaki pants are neatly ironed and his hair is flawless. He wants to give Blair nothing to complain about. Any arguing might shake their relationship out of the facsimile it has become.

"Table for two, please," he requests of the maître d'.

The penguin-suited man looks down at him over his horn-rimmed glasses. "Name?"

"Archibald," Nate says robotically.

This seems to mollify the maître d'. Nate hasn't made a reservation, but his last name is usually enough to guarantee automatic, no-reservation-necessary entry into all but the most exclusive of restaurants.

"Right this way, sir," the man grabs two menus and leads him to a small table by the window. "The best seat in the house."

Nate nods at him and sits down. "Thank you."

"Am I correct in presuming a young lady will be joining you soon?" The maître d' asks.

Nate nods again. "Yes, sir, just send her this way when she arrives."

Nate sits patiently at the table for the next fifteen minutes, resisting the urge to drum his fingers against the table in a distinctly ungentlemanly manner. Blair's fashionably late tendencies annoy him to no end, but he has learned to put up with it over the years.

Suddenly Nate hears a most likely unprofessional squeal from the host desk.

"Ohmigosh!" The maître d' exclaims. "I saw you in the New York Post for your debutante ball!"

Blair Waldorf has arrived.

"You're Blair Waldorf, aren't you?"

Nate can picture Blair smiling benevolently in his mind's eye even though the reception area is screened from the rest of the restaurant.

"How many for tonight?"

"Actually, I'm meeting someone," Blair's voice rings out pleasantly.

"Tall, dark, and handsome?" The maître d' jokes.

It is more difficult to conjure up a picture of a genuine wry grin by Blair than it is to imagine one of her fake, for-the-adoring public smiles, especially since Nate sees genuine expressions from Blair so little these days.

Nate looks up to see the host leading Blair over to his table. He lifts his head and smiles at her but makes no move to get up to greet her properly.

Blair inclines her head politely before sitting down. She doesn't even bother to lean across the table to kiss her boyfriend on the cheek. It would be a wasted gesture of fake affection.

The two make idle small talk as they peruse the menu. Neither asks any questions that might suggest that they are closer than casual acquaintances. They cover the basics of the statuses of their family, friends, and social life before their appetizers even arrive. Nate only lifts his eyebrow when Blair orders a full-size stack of blueberry pancakes with the works, including whipped cream. And then asks for pickles on top of that.

"And your father and Roman's flight arrived safely back in Paris?" Nate asks, successfully exhausting their conversation topics.

Blair takes a hearty bite of her appetizer, toast with butter.

Butter! Not even margarine. Nate wonders if the Blair Waldorf Robot is malfunctioning. The Blair Waldorf he remembers eats like a bird. She never binged in public. _That_ Blair Waldorf had considered overeating in public very unladylike.

Blair chews, swallows, and nods. "Yes," she responds. "They are probably enjoying a nice glass of Bordeaux in one of their balconies overlooking the vineyards as we speak."

"That's good," Nate sips a glass of his own drink, orange juice. "It was nice to see them last week."

Blair takes another bite of toast and repeats the digestion process. "Yes," she says finally.

Just when Nate is wondering if the entire brunch is going to go this way, Blair pushes aside her food and looks to have a change of heart. She runs her fingers through her hair, a move that Nate traditionally associates with Blair's insecure side.

"I've been thinking," Blair begins. "Kati and Iz were saying something about, you know, these guys they hooked up with and I wanted to ask you…"

Nate thinks he knows where this is going. Blair had been trying to shed her virginity since the beginning of the school year, but something always happened before they went all the way. Nate may not be emotionally attracted to Blair any more, but he is certainly not immune to the physical charms of his sex kitten-look-a-like girlfriend. He hasn't had any for a while, seeing as he's tied to the Blair Waldorf leash. Might as well get some with his hot girlfriend, hey? He sneaks a surreptitious glance at her dress. Is it just him, or does her chest look bigger than he remembers?

Nah, it's probably just a good push-up bra. Her mom did that deal with Victoria's Secret after all.

"And I was wondering what you thought about us, you know…" Blair continues. Nate missed the middle part in there and tries to catch up.

"I think we should take it slow, you know?" Nate interrupts, trying to demonstrate that he is still paying attention. "It is your first time after all and I know you're nervous, but I promise you it will all be good."

Blair frowns. "Okay, I only understood half of that." She looks faintly upset. But maybe it's confusion. Nate can't read this new Blair!Lite

Nate sighs and explains. "Blair, it's okay that you're a virgin. I don't mind. I think it's sexy," he finishes, knowing that will make her smile happily at him.

Or not. Blair blushes and looks down.

"That's not what this is about, Nate," Blair finally gets out nervously. "I'm not a virgin."

"What the fuck?" Nate practically shouts. As far as he knows, he's the only guy Blair's ever even thought about sex with, unless Johnny Depp or that guy from Breakfast at Tiffany's counts.

A few other diners look their way and Nate lowers his head. "Well, who was it?" He says in a more palatable tone of voice.

Blair only looks down at her food.

Nate thinks back. The only other guy he knows she's even ever kissed is… "Chuck?"

Blair blushes and keeps her eyes trained on the toast in front of her.

Nate had expected Blair to deny it immediately. It's the ultimate betrayal, sleeping with the best friend. He should know. But her blush confirmed it.

"There's more," Blair says quietly.

Nate glares at Blair. "What?"

"Well," Blair starts, and then she runs her fingers through her hair again. She glances at her toast, across the restaurant, out the window.

Then Nate puts it together. All the weird food cravings and sickness and Chuckness and ohmygod: "You're pregnant?!"

"Don't say that so loud!" Blair hushes in a wobbly voice before blushing again. Nate thinks that this is so weird because Blair never blushes. The Blair Bot must really be out of tune or something.

But Nate knows this can't be right, because no construct of Blair would ever admit that she wasn't a virgin, let alone that she was pregnant. Which means that this must be the real Blair Waldorf breaking down right in front of him. And suddenly Nate's heart just breaks for the girl in front of him. He's no longer mad. The girl sitting in front of him has been his friend forever and now he worries about her like a brother might his sister.

"How are you going to handle this?" Nate finally asks gently.

Blair sighs and looks at Nate. "I don't know."

Nate rubs his hand over his forehead. "Have you thought about…you know?"

Blair looks faintly embarrassed but Nate thinks it must be a trick of the light. Blair Waldorf does not know the meaning of the word shame. "Yeah, I thought about it."

"And?"

Blair shrugs. "It didn't work out."

"God," Nate exhales. "I mean, you're running out of time here."

"I know, I know, I know," Blair snaps. "I made the appointment and I just couldn't do it and I know, I know what it means to even think about keeping it but even though I know, I know, I know I just couldn't go through with it."

Nate puts his hand up. "Okay, calm down crazy girl," he says soothingly. "I'm not saying you have to give him-I mean her-I mean, it, whatever-up. Just think about your options here."

Blair nods. "I am."

Nate assesses the situation. Clearly Blair has done some thinking about this before. He just needs to fill in some gaps in his own information. "Okay, so who else knows?"

"Just Chuck," Blair tells him. "Well, I told Serena, but she thinks-" Blair pauses.

"She thinks what?" Nate prompts.

"She thinks I aborted it yesterday," Blair says in a rush.

Nate runs his fingers through his own, short hair. "Wow."

"Yeah," Blair says. "Oh, and also I think Dorota might have figured it out."

Nate shrugs. "No surprise there. Dorota's like the Yoda of the Upper East Side; she knows everything."

The two laugh at this, even though the mood hanging over them is still all heavy and serious.

When the laughter subsides Nate looks at Blair carefully. He takes her hand across the table and smoothes his thumb over her soft skin. In a way, it feels more intimate than any make out session they've ever had, but at the same time they both know there isn't anything there but friendship.

"You know I'll be there for you, don't you, Blair?" Nate asks her softly. "Even if Chuck flakes and takes off to, like, Morocco, you know I'll stand by you, right?"

Blair smiles at him, and it's the most genuine expression he's seen on her face in months. "Yeah," she says. "I know."

She doesn't bother to say thank-you, but they both know it isn't necessary. Blair would do the same for Nate in a heartbeat.

--CB--

Blair's brunch with Nate lasts much longer than she expects it to. She had predicted maybe half an hour of awkward conversation before she got the courage to broach the subject of breaking up with Nate.

Thankfully, Blair never even has to raise the subject. Just as she is trying to reach the topic in a roundabout way by telling Nate she wanted more independence, Nate stumbles right over a minefield by asking about her virginity.

Everything comes rushing out after that and even though the topic of their relationship hasn't been discussed, Blair and Nate both leave the brunch as free agents.

Blair declines the doorman's offer to call a cab for her, instead opting to walk a few blocks to Central Park. She's got some time to kill before she meets her mother at 3pm at the Crystal Room for tea with the old biddies running a charity auction. It's just some stupid society thing, but Blair's got plenty of those on her agenda anyway.

Blair makes a beeline for a wooden bench that she sees by the side of a path. It's shaded by an old oak tree with a thick trunk; perfect for relief from the sun.

Scratch that. A bit of a noisy path. Small children bounce and chatter as they stroll along with their parents on the sunny day that is bright enough to forget the chill of winter.

Blair stretches out on the bench. She takes her Palm Pilot out of her purse and starts scrolling through the functions. She finds the SAT Vocab Flashcards she uploaded a while back and starts practicing them.

Suddenly Blair's phone buzzes in her purse. Blair reaches over, grabs it, and checks the Caller ID. It's Chuck. She lets it buzz to voicemail.

Seconds later, the phone buzzes again. It's still Chuck. Blair ignores it once again and tries to concentrate on memorizing the definition of the word 'ameliorate': "to make better or more tolerable."

Blair fixes those words in her mind. She's almost positive she's going to remember them when her phone buzzes for a third time. _Fuck._ She forgot already. She makes a noise in her throat that sounds almost like a growl of frustration; a little girl passing by gives her a weird look and Blair decides to just pick up the goddamn phone.

"Hello?" Blair snaps.

She hears a chuckle. "Lovely to hear from you as well, Blair."

"What do you need, Bass?"

"Just curious," Chuck begins wryly. "I got a strange phone call from Nate a few minutes ago. Something about wanting to kill me, but I can't be sure. Any idea why my best friend wants to rip my guts out?"

Blair grins in spite of herself. "I may have told him about…you know."

Chuck mock-gasps. "What?" He asks. "I thought you wanted to keep it on the down low."

"Well I had to break up with Nate," Blair says in exasperation. "It wasn't fair. You know, for his sake."

"Of course," Chuck agrees in a pompous voice. "You wouldn't want him to feel betrayed or anything. I mean, sleeping with the best friend-that's pretty harsh."

Blair sighs. "Shut up," she tells him, but without much venom. "At least Serena didn't get pregnant."

"I think it would have been funny."

"I know, I know, everything's funny to you."

"So…how'd you tell him?"

Blair is torn briefly. Telling Chuck about their conversation will most certainly end up with him mocking her mercilessly, but she feels a strange twinge about the idea of lying to him. Shuddering, she shakes it off. What a strange compulsion. "Oh, you know," she answers vaguely. "I just sort of…did."

Blair can practically see Chuck raising his eyebrows. "Oh, really? Nothing prompted that conversation at all?"

Blair shakes her head vehemently. "Nope, nothing."

"He didn't, by any chance, mention your virginity, did he?" Chuck questions neutrally.

"No!" Blair responds a little too quickly. "How'd-I mean, why do you ask?"

A pause on the other end of the line. "I might have mentioned to him yesterday that word around school was that you wanted to shed your virginity more than ever lately."

"What?!" Blair exclaims. "You told him that? No wonder he thought-" She stops.

"No wonder he thought what?" Chuck asks slyly.

"I hate you!" Blair finally says, frustrated. "I can't believe you did that."

Laughter rumbles over the phone. "No, you don't, and yes, you can."

"No to the first, I guess to the second. I've always suspected you were the devil."

"Ooh, so you're bearing the son of Satan? What does that make you?"

Blair sighs. "Enough, Chuck."

"Alright, alright, sorry about all that. Look, let me make it up to you. Want to come over to my place tonight?"

Blair rolls her eyes. "No, Chuck."

"Not for that!" Chuck clarifies hastily in a softer voice. "I just meant…you know, if you wanted to talk or something. I mean, we have a lot we have to talk about if we're actually going to do this, you know?"

Blair doesn't say anything for a second.

"You still do want to do this, don't you?" Chuck queries tentatively, as if he's afraid she'll suddenly reverse her decision of last Monday.

Blair reassures him. "Of course I'm doing this," she says. "But I think we should take some space this weekend, you know? Relax."

"Blair," Chuck pleads. "You can't avoid me forever. Hell, you barely picked up this call."

The stupid twinge in Blair's heart is coming back. "I'll see you on Monday, okay?" Not even waiting for a response, Blair ends the call.

--CB--

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Chuck looks at his door as he sits on his black leather couch in his suite at the Palace. Old-fashioned mahogany, it's probably stood there for years.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

And now his best friend is going to smash it in so he can smash Chuck's head in.

It does not sound like an appealing future.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Chuck winces. The old mahogany will probably crack soon if he doesn't go to answer. He braces himself as he gets up and walks over to the door. He turns the handle and swings it open to reveal a spitting mad Nate Archibald.

Chuck automatically takes a step backwards. He cracks a smile. "Hi?"

Nate steps in the room and slams the door behind him. The frame rattles.

"Hi?" Nate snarls. "Hi? That's all you have to say to me?"

Chuck's smile turns downwards. "Um…how are you?"

Nate is almost shaking with anger. "Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about, Bass."

Chuck takes another couple of steps backwards. "Nate, just calm down, okay?"

"Calm down?" Nate practically yells. "Calm down? How can I calm down when you screwed my girlfriend, huh? Behind my back! And you even knocked her up! What the hell did I ever do to you, man, what the hell did I ever do to you?"

The smile slides off of Chuck's face as he tries to calm Nate down from his rant. "Nate, just think about this rationally, okay? It's been months. You guys were on a break. And it was only a few times-"

"Only a few times?" Nate roars. A part of Chuck's brain is laughing at Nate's need to repeat the last few words of everything Chuck says, but the other part of his brain is telling him to keep backing away. "Only a few times? You did it more than once? I can't believe you!"

Chuck backs up again, this time all the way back to the couch, but he's too scared to sit down and let Nate tower over him. Usually, Chuck would never be frightened of his docile and slightly stupid best friend, but he's never seen Nate like this before. And Chuck Bass isn't exactly much of an intimidating fighter, physically. His manicured nails would probably cause the most damage, to be honest.

"Nate," Chuck says nervously. "I've been your friend forever. Me. Chuck Bass. Remember?"

For a second Chuck is actually worried that Nate is going to punch him. Nate's fingers are tightening into a fist and Chuck can almost see him releasing his arm and he closes his eyes, preparing for the impact. After all, he deserves it.

Which is why Chuck is surprised to hear the sound of Nate's laughter instead of the crunch as Nate breaks his nose. He opens his eyes. "What?" He asks in confusion.

Nate holds up his hands in the traditional 'I surrender' gesture. "Dude, relax," Nate tells him. "I'm not gonna punch you." He chuckles again.

Chuck is still in shock. "What?"

"I'm not angry," Nate assures him. He pauses. "Well, that's not entirely true-I'm kind of pissed that you slept with my girlfriend-"

"You were on a break!" Chuck interjects.

"But you know Blair and I weren't going to last anyway," Nate continues. He shrugs. "You knocking Blair up kept me from another year and a half of our boring-ass, pretentious relationship before college."

Chuck attempts a winning smile. It half works out. "So really, I did a good deed?"

Nate laughs. "Well, I wouldn't go that far…"

"Of course not," Chuck mutters.

"But hey, all's well that ends well," Nate says. "Speaking of which, you better be good to Blair, okay? If I hear that you've upset her at all, I'll kill you."

"Dude," Chuck rolls his eyes. "Me just breathing upsets Blair."

Nate shrugs. "Well, yeah," he answers. "Before. But now you guys are together, right?" When Chuck doesn't answer, Nate's eyes narrow. "Right?"

Chuck throws up his hands dramatically. "I try, okay? Blair barely wants to talk to me."

Nate looks a little taken aback. "I guess I just figured that you guys were together now."

"I wish," Chuck mutters bitterly. "I fucking love the girl, but just the idea of talking to me is goddamn repulsive to her."

"Huh," Nate scratches his chin. He doesn't bother to respond to the part about Chuck loving Blair. Part of Nate realizes that his subconscious has known that for years.

Neither boy speaks for a few minutes.

Finally Nate sighs. "I'm all thought out for the day," he tells Chuck.

Chuck nods. "Me too." He pauses. "So, want to go play video games?"

Nate nods. "Hell yeah."

--CB--

Blair walks out of the austere Plaza building in midtown at 5 o'clock on Saturday evening surrounded by a mixture of teenage girls sporting Louis Vuitton purses and middle-aged women sporting pricey nose jobs.

"So we'll meet in a few weeks to discuss the progress everybody has made?" Blair confirms to the group of half a dozen people around her.

They all nod eagerly. Blair Waldorf is a good person to agree with.

"Where will we meet?" One girl pipes up.

"Can we meet at Café Angelique?" Another asks dreamily. "It's so chique there."

Blair shrugs. "I suppose." She takes out her Palm and scrolls through to a couple of weekends ahead. "The Café for tea in two weeks?"

"What time is tea?" One younger girl whispers.

An older matron looks back at her. "The same time as today." She rolls her eyes.

"See you there!" Blair smiles and walks over to her mother, who is also extracting herself from another similar group.

Blair and Eleanor saunter towards the curb and step into the taxi that another woman just hailed. The woman steps back, resigned. No need to cause a confrontation with two of the most powerful women in Manhattan.

"I think that went well," Blair remarks to her mother as the taxi speeds towards the Waldorf-Astoria.

Eleanor smiles approvingly. "It certainly did, Blair," she praises. "You did very well. Getting appointed head of the entertainment committee? Why, I saw Leticia Vanderbilt herself looking pleased at that."

Blair grins. "Nice job beating her out for the decorations committee head, by the way," she comments wryly.

Eleanor shrugs smugly. "I'm a fashion designer. She's nothing but a frumpy old socialite."

The two share a superior glance before turning back to their respective Palm Pilots.

--CB--

Blair sweeps into the Ritz Carlton's bar at 10:15pm to the waiting Kati, Iz, and Serena. The girls are clearly far past their first round of drinks as they enthusiastically down more shots.

"Blair! Over here!" Kati squeals even though Blair is practically right in front of her.

Blair raises an eyebrow and takes a seat at the table with them.

"You look so great!" Iz compliments Blair.

And she does. Blair is still wearing the same outfit she donned at 10:30am that morning, but nearly twelve hours later she still looks fresh and fashionable wearing it. Sure, her mascara is a bit more smudged and her hair has fallen out of her ponytail from earlier to be down and framing her face, but the eye makeup makes her look more mysterious and the hair makes her look more relaxed.

Blair laughs. "How would you know? You're too drunk to tell me apart from that skank over there," she comments, pointing towards a random overly made up twenty-something with a miniskirt smaller than the belts Blair wears.

Iz purses her lips. "She looks just like that Kathy girl, actually."

All four girls snicker at this.

Serena waves the waiter over. "Some Absolut for my friend here!" She waves her hand towards Blair. "Actually," she reconsiders. "Another round for all of us!" The waiter chuckles and walks off.

Kati faux-glares at Serena. "Serena! Are you trying to get me drunk?"

Serena tosses her long, curly blonde hair. "Maybe."

The girls dissolve into giggles.

"Here you are," the waiter has returned with their drinks. "Ladies?" He offers each one of them a drink.

Kati and Iz, drunk though they are, set their fresh drinks in front of them to wait for a minute. Blair, however, slams her drink down and then places her glass back on the waiter's tray, carefully camouflaged by the other dirty drinks.

Kati and Iz cheer Blair, but Serena narrows her eyes. She may be tipsy, but she could have sworn she saw liquid in the glass Blair put back. And she definitely did not see Blair swallow any alcohol. But why wouldn't Blair…

Oh.

Serena's alcohol-addled mind takes a bit longer to connect the dots than usual, but it doesn't take too long. Blair didn't get the abortion, Serena's hazy brain slowly concludes. She's still having the baby.

--CB--

Author's Note: So yeah. I suck. I know. My life just spins out of control a lot and I gotta prioritize. I wish fanfiction didn't always get stuck at the bottom of my list, but it does. However, I really enjoyed writing this chapter and I hope you guys like it as much as I do. More should come soon (ish).

Thanks so much to my ab fab beta gleechild for taking me back after months of abandonment. This fic is so much better thanks to her. All remaining mistakes are 100 mine!

By the way, I just really want to thank everybody who has been reviewing lately-you guys really kept me motivated and this update is for all of you!

Luvs, Agnes


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